TWO SOULS WENT WALKING
Two souls went walking in the mist
the sister ran, the brother kissed
the father flew, the mother fell
all beneath dew, in the dying delve.
One took off, one scanned across
one blew his horn, one baked a pie
all beneath dew,
in the dying delve
The cat saw them walking there
and mewed and spat
two by two they still went
all beneath dew, in the dying delve
One shook his horn
One gathered honey
One grew to love
his burning money
all beneath dew
in the dying delve.
Across the field
the cock crowed two
yet still they flew
through amber corn
all beneath dew
in the dying delve.
They strayed across
a blue domain
across the parseled houses
waxen with a different amber
all beneath dew
in the dying delve.
They stitched their way
through darker thickets
wondering when the path would clear
yet still they drew
all beneath dew
in the dying delve.
Without the promise
of light hearts and feet
they flew beneath the whispy moon
They flew and fell
all beneath dew
in the dying delve.
--April 2006
poetry 2005-2006
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