Poem: Whispery

 

Whispery

 

collected

into the urn of my lungs,

you become dust expunged by breath,

a canopic bloom,

 

uncertain

on a tightrope of hardbitten bluff,

then out over the sea,

 

vagrant on crumbling crests to sail,

masts of driftwood

scattered and shorn.

 

maybe some gruff isle awaits

where

cinders snuffed you sift stubborn sand,

 

endure its amorphous indifference,

and hear the distant drum and chant

of  my heartbeat--

 

not to say your name a final time

but rather over and over,

until meaning slakes,

 

and you thus whispery of wind:

vast yet forgotten,

always present yet no.

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