Wednesday, March 17, 2010

My red-skinned aster.

blooming constantly aspired to

winters that could

wan my red-mark'd stem

and i alone, endured the

howling death of friends

friends and lovers

who once were mine

and hushed fragile

tragically declined

to every weighty winter

with no hope of

a silken spring

and looked on me

as i softly sighed

a prayer to last me

through the desert season

till the months when

twilight consumes day

i touched their green

and hoped

where hearts did lusty dream

(i find)

of petals

petals

so sanctified

petals that will be mine

i looked to

the stalks

and dreamt of a death

where

strong blood melted

on porcelain skin

and i

instilled in mine life

with words that whistled,

words

beyond mankind.