Days 6 & 7: Weekend Poetry is Difficult

Day 6:

Looking for Obscurity

Everyone wants clarity, some

pray for it, even. Give me a

cloud-filled sky, it’s November 

after all: let the ribbon of birds

lose itself in a temple of cumulus.

Let truth slip away unnoticed,

waiting for some rambler to

pick it up & call it something new.

Let all of us lose our senses

trusting that behind the darkness

is that same blue sky waiting

for the lightning to strike or a

new sun to rise up like a first fire

burning every preconception to ash.

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Day 7:

Pro-Memory

without it, we would

never exist but in the

tiniest segments

four shiny sea shells

a broken bicycle chain

a can of old coins

nothing is all gone

everything leaves its dust

choose your objects well

seven unplayed cards

one fractured black rosary 

a pile of lost leaves