Beyond pale, cold blue fingers tunnel snow,
craving still-life sign. Rigid soil bites back,
unforgiving. Claws grip silent frost.
Birds skate circles on chill sky. Exhausted
repetition passes time - reflects on lake,
ice-smooth stuck on zero.
She, frozen to thin hope, shivers.
He, snow-blind, covers winter eyes.
*image: Lilian Broca
Raucous autumn skirts round carnal flirt;
rain tiered breeze stirs interest wild,
gold-leafs thought, recalls warmer time.
Anticipation senses change is due,
sweet November shower scents first move.
where I dream. Alone – but for you,
teasing velvet from grey sky to wind
around my tired fingertips, lest I
forget how seasons follow one another.
*image: JW Waterhouse
First words catch impressionable shadow
off-guard. Delusion’s fancy-woman
sighs, “just love
years, feeds rueful dark on waste.
learn to beg scant ease at pining table.
Her shape, a finger puppet skinned alive,
is comely though removed from touch
dances to spilled flesh and hollow wax,
sad pleasure’s wane. Tonight her shadow
fancies building fires, removing veils.
*image: Jack Spencer
thank you, dearest Pentacular, for your gorgeous
email critique! *hugsss*
