The Poetry Of..
Peggy Dobreer.................................................
Tender Mercy
The meridians of your affection
Trace the veins of my samadhi
Without sentiment or promise
Without a singular sunrise
Over the pallet of our sleep
I take no pleasure in writing your secrets
Telling your truths to strangers
Fitting them into packages
Tying them with sinew and string
The white Willow is lowing
The moon is a bright gaping ear
to ear smile on the hidden face
Of the silent grey orb
I rise into the moment of
what has been lost for centuries
found in your subtle assurance
unnamed in the mysteries of your Trevi
the Sahara of your rank and style
Oh seed of pomegranate, juice of berry
Oh crimson spill and courage of bitters
Oh pantomime, oh countdown of demise
Oh sacred answer tendered
of the succulent divine.
light on an empty porch ~
these decisions
......
not of pros
......
or cons
but of lies
......
and deception
these dependencies
......
not of promise
......
or pride
but of light
......
on an empty porch
these deliriums
......
tenacious images
......
locked in a flag of
......
more grief approaching
Morning Moon
You
are last night's moon
still trying to shine
in a morning sky.
You
are dull and Westerly
like a mere ghost
of your former self.
I want you
to inspire me but
you are just a shadow
of once bold radiance,
all
known hoopla
down the drain of
your own dalliance.
Memory
plans it own demise.
There
is nothing here
that rain has
not washed over,
scrawled across a
February sky.
Come,
you cloudy raiment,
cover this morbid moon
that grants no light,
that has overstayed
its welcome, that stains
this vast gray garment
of sky.
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