Poem: Under the Silver

Continuing my tribute to Wilderness House Literary Revew and Poetry Editor Irene Koronas, here is another poem originally published there.

May the silver in the darkness guide you.

Owl

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Under The Silver

the moon gazes
like a denarius
on the lid of Venus,
and we wonder
what else is buried in the mists;
if truth is a victim
or a willing sacrifice;
and whether we ourselves
are under the silver.

the soil-like sky
shuffles its den of coffins,
each a mansion of mutable doors.
how long have we been
sawing with harsh prayers,
trying to get out,
or to rescue the eyries
trapped within?

when clouds mesh
into a metropolis,
their eye sockets
yield an immutable rain;
and if we are to earn daylight,
we must decipher the turbid sorrow,
untangle the beasts hinted at
by clumps of vaporous
and angry bone.



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