A solitary note?
A thousand - jeremiad of keys -
a waterfall of sorrow,
keen grief rose through mist,
settled in the dew
on the planes
by a graveyard.
A calm wind?
An echo - holocaust of hate -
a flock of leaves
torn from poet trees,
exhausted in cold mud
and tattered shadow
by a schoolyard.
A smooth stone?
A river - orgasm of mountains -
dogged plunge of outcast time
flogged the earth
with glass and foam,
constant, enduring
by quiet death to the sea.
A black bird?
A gloss - serenade of light -
the spearing star of summer
pierced crestfallen clouds,
enlightened the soil,
- alive - wept fire, forged
dark wings into memory of early spring.