Powdered Sugar-ese

By lupus tenebrae

 



Sometimes, I speak in autumn language,
long before this September,
in words I say, when they blow away,
they’re something I try to remember.

Sometimes, I speak with powdered sugar
stifling my whispers so,
when they blow away, in words I say
they’re carried and lost under the snow.

Sometimes, I speak in trilling chorus
welcoming the green again,
in words I say, when they blow away,
they graze the sure amber of grain.

Sometimes, I speak with too much repose,
but really, there’s more beneath,
when they blow away, in words I say
to seasons played on ivory teeth.  

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Copyright 2012 lupus tenebrae
Published on Tuesday, September 4, 2012.     Filed under: "Poetry"

Author's Note:

For awhile, I felt this piece too light for a place like DP, perhaps the same can be said of me, sometimes. Maybe I should revisit my darker roots, somehow. Written in zanila rhyme.
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