deepundergroundpoetry.com
Sunspot Deaths
A July sky could eat the world,
and swallow us in paper blue
where even the sun would not be warm.
If I emerge from the shadows
that dance through willow branches,
to find the place where the light bounces
off flashing water in the brook,
then I am lost.
The July sky will catch me:
tear me from the world and throw me
to the vertigo abyss.
I will burn like paper-petrol in blue flames
and the orange moon, hanging heavy in August,
will be all of my remains.
and swallow us in paper blue
where even the sun would not be warm.
If I emerge from the shadows
that dance through willow branches,
to find the place where the light bounces
off flashing water in the brook,
then I am lost.
The July sky will catch me:
tear me from the world and throw me
to the vertigo abyss.
I will burn like paper-petrol in blue flames
and the orange moon, hanging heavy in August,
will be all of my remains.
Published 14th May 2010
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