… many colors
By J. K. McDowell
November 2010
The flames capture your deep looking and hold fast to
What was once just a glance of the soul. My advice:
Do not turn away. Others will avoid the window.
The stars suggest flexibility and grace.
The healing is over, why do the cast and the
Crutch remain? Does this street of suffering suit you?
She is the ghost that haunts your remembering.
I need to be more than a phantom memory,
Rather an eerie tingling chill, a stolen caress.
I suppose the whole thing is rather unsettling.
A confined balance of panic and pain.
I wonder, is a change of address in the future?
I notice a dragon in the conure’s sneer.
Surprised, I peer closer, she has never breathed
Fire before but somehow my eyebrows are singed.
The dark half of the year has hatched, J. K.
In time, we fall back to refuge, reminded
That black friday comes in so many colors.
This piece appears in my poetry collection “Night, Mystery & Light,” published by Hiraeth Press and is available at the Hiraeth Press website:
http://hiraethpress.com/store/books/night-mystery-light/