by David Bolton.
Let’s see through the wind-streaked pane
last leaves of maple burgundy, rippled skies
chill rain dancing on slate.
Hear silence ravish the drought,
drop by drop.
even squirrels give pause to this aquatic peace.
old T.S. was right: winter does keep us warm
dreams do slip through cracks during this lack of light.
Touch the casket of bark. Remember Spring
when branches tilted sun-ward and hope sprouted anew.
now the change of seasons, yet within trickles a spirit.
Drink deep lest the soul turn brittle and weak.
legions of hate have penetrated Babylon’s gates.
In all languages and passages, El Diablo entrances
the hearts of the lost.
Remember Revelations: As light follows darkness
the Tree of Knowledge arises.