4a.m.

it is 4a.m.

i peer down at christmas lights strung across dusty anthills.

6 stories and 1 loosely shingled roof high,

my metaphorical hand is swimming in the closest metaphorical hand;

knees are pressed up against backs for warmth.

a universe of birth and death opens up to us from the heavens,

and we laugh out of strained curiosity and contained excitement,

because just this sunrise we were unsure of the valor that is enclosed in humanness.

now we understand that the metallic night burr is a reminder of our past,

and, much like a moonlit tide, it comes and goes.

when the breeze comes and goes,

my eyes ride the surface in the same manner that water swiftly glides on glass.

racing across ice, pirouetting, my pupils touch the surface of wind in its entirety, as if embracing atoms.

wind ceases,

god speaks nonsense out of clouds,

promising never to fill cement gloves with fire.

my knees ache,

and my eyes, they long for another pair to gaze back into. 

Reviews

[Addy]

It's quite pretty. Just a tip, working on proper grammar will make your work much more enjoyable to read. I always enjoy reading stuff a lot more when people put effort into there grammar. :) the way you broke up the lines is good. It's just a tad confusing but otherwise your word choice is lovely

[willowthetree]

Thank you very much for the feedback. I really appreciate it, but the poem is intended to be that way. I wanted the structure of the piece to encase, in itself, the mentality and emotion that I was in and felt the night I wrote it, sort of off kilter and spacey.

Out of curiosity, what does it mean to you?

[Ranger Kessel]

very beautiful and well laid out. i enjoyed this:)

[willowthetree]

thank you, I appreciate it! :)