the dead girl I didn’t
know
time’s
orphan
eyes fixed in painted
stare
feet bare to walk the path
of light
hands yet entangled in the
stuff of a life
to steal the diamonds from
the eyes
of those still trying to
capture
to
hold her
sweet summer child
what exactly were you
thinking?
our species in peril along
with all others
the biosphere changes
doesn't
cease to exist
life always returns
in one form or another
unless or until it doesn't
my prayers are for future
generations
our children to the 7th
generation
who will see the
devolution
of
societies
of polities
of
economies
and experience the anomie
that has always been at
the edge of the broken world
inhabited by poets and dreamers
temples to godhead built
from the stones and bones
of the Mother
the voices of eons of
souls
interred
in her capacious womb
crying out for remembrance
as memory crumbles away
leviathan asphalt skin
suffocates the clamor
the demands to acknowledge the fine roots
the web of tomorrow’s
juicy appetites
tangled roads of history
winding
through the unplumbed
depths of Now
birdsong like glass shards
sparking the electric dawn
I touch the hieroglyphics
of your skin with my fingertips
hills and hollows
ridges scars and rough
spots
like a blind woman
learning Braille
seeking
the answers to whispered questions
darkness falls like an act
of mercy
how far can you fall into
Nothing or roll away
the stone from the cave of
the heart
loneliness of a shooting
star burns a trail
the
maddening smile of the Void
© 2018 pamela twining
