notrust

Birdcall in the April rain is more than you or me. We always whisper in the morning light as if the demons outside the door might hear our secrets, but they've been replaced by sparrows and thrushes who sing us untranslatable songs. Later, earthworms will crawl out of their flooded realm, searching for asylum. Their dead bodies will outline the pavement and the birds (noisier than ever) will devour this life once from my garden. The narcissi will shine like children. Beating down in Gregorian imperfection, these torrents uproot trees and overflow rivers, displace deer and slaughter Spring, wash away the residue from the edge

Crouched on old wooden steps       Between rusting iron bridgework So cold she can barely breathe Yet occasionally clouds of hopeless dreams Kiss the air                Then fall and shatter at her feet Toes almost as numb as her heart         Which even she isn't sure is beating anymore And as the sun falls off the horizon A lonley grey lies over the earth                 Holding little promise for tomorrow The breeze burns into her skin and she smiles As she remembers how your hands once did the same No one notices she's gone                                     And she likes it In a strange way having no one who cares Makes

And we lay like sleeping angels. Down covers folded like so many rumpled wings. In twilight heaven our bodies glisten golden. In silence I brush a hair behind her ear and just breathe. Inhale, exhale, and life is perfect.