Saturday, January 24, 2009



could mean there might be
someone in the trees listening

or a deep snowfall delaying the day's routine

even a harsh lover with biting kisses
strict commands and silent vows

each sensation a subtle
madness enticing the pulse

"move closer..."

was dust, distraction, something
that could happen naturally had
she not been told to do so

her native defiance reared up
like a sequined unicorn dancer

running towards virginal music


Saturday, January 3, 2009

sea mother

tears are shallow
salty soldiers of futility
so far below the waves

anemone eyes sway
tendrils of sorrow
bright seahorse havens

empty coral beds echo
water-gypsy tunes

like wind scraping a hollow bone
across a broken windowpane

their silent algae plea
a scattered krill symphony

that no longer calls forth
the magic of ozone

a weeping mother
must be healed
at all costs

tears are hollow
vapor mercenaries
trails gouging across
the faces of cloud people

burning our sacred sky temple

where light keeps breath and sleep
things that should not be wasted

sacred marrow from the last
unicorn's spire can not be taken

1.03.09 © acn