September 2016
September 2016
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
An Ancestral Silence
deep winter
without the weave of words
within shelter
still birds
offspring of silence
after words
the presence
of ancient hand prints
deepen their absence
mere hints
of mammoths and bears
left long since
the words that are the heirs
of the lives once theirs
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
darkening wind –
my mind comes to stop
at nothing
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
September wind –
a terror unheard of
since unspoken
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
the morning murmurs
"m’illumino d’immenso" –
September light
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
fantail
in the flutter
of her
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
I score
I know not what
with words
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
all around
the impression of self
where light falls
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
a -
dna or morse
to a t
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
light of spring –
this longing to become
a buttercup
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
spring tide
words somersault
in the wind
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
a grain of salt
Lot's wife looks back
to the twin cities
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
lost for words
fallen rimu dragged
through the mill
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
spring
as it is called
out of step
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
all about spring release
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
setting sun
my vowels lengthen
with my words
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
coffin thuds –
the sound of forgetting
beginning
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
dead calm
before the beginning
and after . . .
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
night of nights
a smoldering wick
voices the prayer
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
unbidden bird
the name for it
births itself
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
in the beginning
a lack of words
for nothing
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
as you read
an old silence becomes
audible once more
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
filling in the gaps
left after words
haiku
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
theory of everything
the grand design
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
even here
a cheshire cat
of words
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
this endless hunt for meanings,
finally a kind of curious greed
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
and still
leaden words sink me
ever deeper
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
in-between
breath-wide moments
nothing but
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
this prosthesis
re-membered
word by word
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
leaves break down a death sentence