Tuesday, 21 January 2014

1 New Poem

Flowers and Ferris Wheels

Riding Ferris Wheels alone can be so calm,
the carnival lights swelling in thousands' feet time,
and cold crystal clutching to eyelash in summer's
pale pier docking, there was nothing to hear
but one's own breath; you say it's alright,

And you hide behind glasses,
push worries away with clouds in the
Halifax skies and Breton's undertow.

Tumbling shoe-tied streets can be so illuminated,
drinking and dragging along time tendrils
drawn from the last talk you had with someone
you could have spent hour dawns with
blessed thought, hands held; you say it's okay

And you hide behind bar tabs,
staunch dried tears with memoirs,
paper pages and quill ink.

Talking with yourself can make great partners,
when there's nothing left but the wall's echo
for understanding, when lights have all
snuffed out from half-thinkers sitting rooms
and friends shut their eyes; you say it's just fine

And you hide behind platitudes,
half-ironies and placid smirks;
black-out curtains in your room.

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