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SOULS BENT OUT OF SHAPE
the
wind is strong;
it can split open the stone center of a heart;
it can lay bare love;
even in hardened torment;;
it waits, like in a dream; hanging immobile;;;
these eyes that are disturbed and alone;
also suspended; defy the images
left indelible in some part of the body;;
these eyes listen; like ears;;
the others, in their rusted cages,
wait for instructions;;
what they have loved is now torment;
in silence, they relinquish the memory of joy.
LEMURS/GHOSTS
it
is noon; I'm asleep
in the trees with the lemurs;
my wings are tired these days;
ever beating at nightmares of closets;
roomy; but closets nevertheless;;
apodictic scorn is squeezed into branches
by my now weakening talons;
talons which once grasped love
from our familiar winds;
that once grappled with storms
that spared me; insulting scars, long faded;;
I used to wake early; lazily eye the valley;
the slow moving cattle with their young;
the coyotes heading back to their dens;;
its been long and lonely;;
now amongst the lemurs;
their silly offspring; careless; innocent;
a shroud of uncertainty brushes my tossled ruff;
this migration is certainly my last migration;;
I often think of the lone deer
left behind by its disappearing flock;
how it stood at the edge of the river;
how it stared blindly at the couple in the distance;
puzzled; they were not sure which path was their path;
blind also;they followed the path of the frightened
deer.
More of Margueritte's work is available on
Poetz 2000. |