Painted World – a narrative poem

Into your snow painted world

I stalk, ‘neath high veils of stormy grey

In flux, hiding shadows, taller trees

Reach to claim a stranger, warning.

*

What waits here few mayst know

The tales, bar what be told by

Those harbingers of old doom

Speaking ever and anon nay.

*

“Hold, cutter!” calls a familiar

Voice vaunted, known of old to me

Like the caress of nails on spine

Vertebrae, nerves reacting, gently.

*

I hail you, alert and smiling here

In your very own painted world, of

High tree, dangerous skies looming;

We are a pair here amidst such art.

*

Why did you come here? What sought

You in this world of your design?

So many questions have I, yet no

Reason for coming do I say so on.

*

Soon on this walk to your high tower,

Soon I expect you to ask, but no

Questions come forth, only quiet talk

Of old wars, older homes, family members.

*

I will try, try hard to give you all

That you are fairly due for your great

Victories and loving soul; and walk

Slower, slower, postponing the blood

On ice.

*

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s