Happy World Poetry Day.
I can see the top of April’s head
through all of the snow in the flower bed
she’s not going to like this one bit
all this fucking snow and shit.
Other buildings rise towering by our sides as we pass, yet waiting directly ahead, the cathedral grows not one jot, resting unfocused etherial, seemingly no larger, yet larger than the sun, it is unapproachable, unreachable.
Damn you bed, you know I must leave you, yet you offer such warm arms now.
Last night you gave such an icy embrace, when I was so tired and in need of comfort.
Thunder cracked with flashing flame
overhead the storm clouds came
rain it lashed a mighty chinook
floor to wall to roof all shook
prayers given grace to free
morning came without me.
Both our kittens are fluffy and cute
a fact which the birds vehemently dispute.
No touch no sound nor sight
just a whiff has my mind take flight
flying back through all of my memories
I arrive right back in one place in one moment.
Sip smile and return.
An ancient rook with a beak of stone
paused to peck at a corpse’s bone
patience fades the flesh has gone
to new death away he’s flown.