mirrors (for One Shoot Sunday)
mirrors—
a stare that stares back
in whose eyes?
wheat fields glinting
bouncing beaten gold off skies
too heavy
to leap past the frame
onto infinity–
beyond the grip of stones
where shadows rumble
old bones
clatter awaiting the wind
in bed with the moon
petrified butterfly clouds fold wings
weeds ogle at blue gaps
thunder
conceives lightning flashes
mirrors eye
the brittle sighing in the cairn
far off where desires lie
in complicity
with the sun—who stares back
in the mirror? a stare that stares back
in whose eyes beyond the frame
but stone on stone
Posted for One Shoot Sunday on One Stop Poetry from a photo by Sean McCormick. Here at OSP a vibrant community of poets and artists share their love for their art. Check us out.
Here (for One Shoot Sunday)
Night dying can’t be quiet
here: the air sputters,
roars. Dogs cough
in their sleep. Water laps
edges of dreams.
Darkness bleeds, floods
the field. Wheat grain
swaying in crimson stun
the absent moon. The sky
spits stars.
Someone rises
in the dark, pattering feet
alone. Phantom paws
race the light, those
purple spears
leaving bruises
night inflicts on sleep. No one
waits for night dying
here: day isn’t
a likely light.
Posted at One Stop Poetry for One Shoot Sunday from a photo by Sean McCormick titled, “Haunted Grainery”. Join other poets and artists like me who have bonded as a community of lovers for their art.