Out from my window my eyes search.
Affixed on the arms of an elm tree
They follow a tumbling leaf to the ground.
Cedar scents swallow, softly, the
Scant supposition from the
Leaves of the gently swaying elm.
A raven a crow and a dove
Flit a crackling perch up above.
Though the dove cannot find
The three of them bind
To never let push come to shove.
************
Cloud from out my mouth escapes,
A shout from out my lips now breaks,
And silence, now, it slowly takes,
The cloud from out my mouth.
The coldest time comes in the year,
Heat we all begin to fear,
In and out, found in a sneer,
The cloud from out my mouth.
Gently fall, we, to damnation,
Our shortened life we try to hasten,
A subtle slave to such temptation,
The cloud from out my mouth.
Within our wine the true black fly,
Our lungs and blood to sanctify,
And yet a thousand children cry,
The cloud from out my mouth.
My words, my thoughts, emotion true
I try my best to pass to you
Though they, my thoughts, do misconstrue
The cloud from out my mouth.
Now I lay, a crisp elm leaf,
My heart, my mind, my soul bequeathed,
For in my mind is life’s motif,
My heart and soul the disbelief,
The cloud from out my mouth.
************
Out from my window my eyes try to find.
Affixing on axes with nowhere to grind,
Tracing the breath which a lover hath sighed.
Ashen scents call, quietly, the
Craven inquisition calmed only by the
Leaves of the gently turning elm.
Once there stood a raven
And thrice there perched a crow
And both of them had hurried
In hopes that none would know.
For in-between their feathers,
Twixt and ‘tween their wings
Were the feathers of a pure white dove
Who’s life had not been seen.
While up they flew into the sky
And the sun had quickly set,
A single plume of feathers fell,
A new life not to beget.
Beside a rolling cedar tree
The feathers’ home devout.
I viewed it through a thickn’ing fog,
The cloud from out my mouth.