A Rose Among Glaciers

You hit the canvas of my mind
like the hopeful promise of a second home
I want to sit uninterrupted in this place,
and watch your paint dry

You draw my senses into dreams,
much the way jazz does when I drink
I feel ever nearer to your center
I trust you're waiting on me to arrive

You cut through my continuum
as though it were some beat to be danced to
I'd gladly take your hand, and show you
where my moves are hidden

You laugh as though you'd been crying
There is something frail about your roar
Would that I could shelter your garden,
and see it grow to be fruit and blossoms

You sink the dark of midday with eyes
that could empty empires of their libraries
I find myself imagining that you might
look at me, and never stop

You soothe my monster with your own
Such lovable creatures we harbor within
And not a moment goes by without me wishing
that we could simply drop anchor in the flames...

and be done with all else we've known

Poetry from A Bar in Brooklyn by Shane Windham
E-book and paperback coming spring of 2017

No comments:

Post a Comment