It held the very center of the horizon
Not unlike me
at the center of the metal maelstrom.
Not unlike me
at the center of the shopping Mecca.
It took up the whole smooth sky,
or so it seemed
While I sped home from there
tired, hungry, worried,
almost out of gas.
It was large burnt orange planet like
looming in the distance
dark not quite right forbidding
the biggest deep orange rising moon
I've ever seen.
It was a vision.It was an image.
a symbol or a sign.
It's always about that,
shapes or signs or words
harbingers of things to come.
Images danced across the screen.
flying glass, the wave, words
falling objects, whispers in the ear
photographs taken just in time
looks in the eye just before something happens
HARBINGERS,,,, was this one of them.
Through already tear-moist half closed eye
the image of cursed moon began to blurr....
and seemed another circle
the circle of a golden diamond ring
one that sustains the very beauty inherent in the
world.
and it was in another circle
a pipetray we once argued over
sitting on a dresser brown orange ash filled glass
purchased several Christmas ago
at another mall, another connection
and in my minds eye those two circles formed
an unholy alliance that would lay in waiting
to destroy every moment YET TO COME.
I cursed the lips that spoke unkind words
I feared the parting that didn't seem quite right.
I yearned for the man I couldn't quite be.
I wished and wished for one more chance.
and As gas lines filled with potential motion
foreward flying along curving highways
and giant monolithic overpass bridges
HOPING*HOPING*HOPING*
Please don't let this be
the one that leaves me lonely
the one that kills my hope
Please don't let this be my HARBINGER MOON.
Step by Step by Step
The stairs seem sinking.
Singing creaking songs of fear
The alcove aging by the second.
The number eight on the door
always crooked
Flickering bluish radiant light
seemed to resound in the waves
off stale air, but there
on beat up hand me down couch
Sat my true love
and suddenly all my circles were in alignment.
I held her, held her very close
and whispered
'come to the window, look at the moon.'
We stood behind familiar
shiny green-eyed cat
and peered through the blinds.
It had risen higher now
grown smaller
and much more pale.
By sextonpoet
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