Pin up your soul
Then
And sell it too
In the devil’s sale
For a hatful of dollars.
Isn’t that what you’re doing?
And does your soul bleed
Like the trophy
You pinned
Up on the bounty string
While the desert grew
Cold
Wrapped in the pale
Skeleton of the night?
A tale half-told,
Withered on the vine.
Did you kill the moon too?
It looks white
And all dead hung out up there in the sky
To dry
Where the pine
Tree
Rattles in the old
Whine
And the howl
Of the wind.
And the tatter-faced owl
Is watching,
Still watching
From the luminous cliffs, caped all in shadows,
Bending over to read
The bones of her toes.
A lost bell might toll
While she waits for the world to fold
Up into the far, silver sea
Of whales and sails, and coral shale
That will sing once again
In the bright
Waters,
Deeper and blue.
March 12, 2012
Photo: © Dgareri / Dreamstime.com / A coyote
Thanks for the “like”, Vikram. I’m enjoying reading your blog! http://vikramroyblog.wordpress.com