Thursday, 4 March 2010

The black owl

Thought inks,
The dull drops
Ache a slow fall,

Entering a thick night,
The mind giants collide
And turn to stone

My red bloom;
A ghost in the glow
Of an unforgiving moon.

The clouds,
The fat clouds
Will not let me see,

In this ruthless absence
Sleep blinks like a haunted light
On the edge of a dream

The black owl eyes me;
A sharpness in the shapeless dark,
I’m awake as a knife