|Jul/Aug 2018 Poetry|
Image courtesy of British Library Photostream
Ghazal to the Night
The sun carries this river to the night.
Balmless flesh, lies. A letter to the night.
What folly, your mineral dream of power.
I inhale your bones, oh smoky altar to the night.
A stump is neither owl nor island, lifeboat
nor storm. This resin, a gift of myrhh to the night.
My email disappeared to emerge a year later.
Why? Remember what we were to the night.
Hey, winged smile, describe yourself in colors!
Empty your veins and pockets, donor to the night.
This cup, that glass. The song of empty bottles.
Casting off, Bob hands his anchor to the night.