Friday, August 22, 2008

Crow Bones

I can feel it in my bones. I can hear crows on the telephone wires. I can see wind writing words I can't read. I smell woodsmoke. The blackberries taste overripe.

I can hear my bones creaking. I see a flight of crows. I smell dead leaves
in the wind. The back of my throat tastes of woodsmoke. I feel blackberry thorns in my skin.

I can see my bones. I smell smoldering feathers. I taste danger in the wind.
I feel the caress of smoke. I hear the blackberry covert rustle.

I can smell bone-dry air. Taste feathery falling ash. I feel the wind turn
cold and hot. I hear the bonfire crackle. I see blackening berry vines.

I taste my bones. I feel crow-black feathers sprout from my skin. I hear the wind
welcome me. I see smoke. I smell blackberry wine burning under the canes.


Collection available! Knocking from Inside

5 comments:

Stan Ski said...

I'm starting to have the same kind of feelings - I hope they never get this vivid.

Crafty Green Poet said...

wonderful evocation of atmosphere. I like the short sentences in long lines.

Crafty Green Poet said...

wonderful evocation of atmosphere. I like the short sentences in long lines.

Anonymous said...

Makes me choke down the idea of the coming of autumn and winter. I feel it.

Anonymous said...

Nice, Tiel, very nice.