deepundergroundpoetry.com
Murk
in the concealed depths of provision
my heart lies fallow in stillness and
solitude where my poetic blood is ink
as the blue skies roll back and burdens
lighten, the daylight renders the stars
in the deep curtains of midnight
the old man of the ocean whose eyes
tell where he’s been prepares to hang
that pale lantern in the night sky
through the ensuing light, drawn waters
root the flowers of memory, and I am
left sitting in anticipation
the universe’s loom weaves my breaths
in sliver tresses that undress my dreams
and through the murk I see you standing
there
my heart lies fallow in stillness and
solitude where my poetic blood is ink
as the blue skies roll back and burdens
lighten, the daylight renders the stars
in the deep curtains of midnight
the old man of the ocean whose eyes
tell where he’s been prepares to hang
that pale lantern in the night sky
through the ensuing light, drawn waters
root the flowers of memory, and I am
left sitting in anticipation
the universe’s loom weaves my breaths
in sliver tresses that undress my dreams
and through the murk I see you standing
there
Published 18th Mar 2023
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