Bruce McRae \ Monsoon 2015
* Along the Darkened Path And the wind is sad and the moon is sad and the flowers are the very thing that is sorrow. I last saw you among the lines and wires. Blood poured through you and out, every Christmas come to an end, summer never to arrive again, your soap opera over. Sad-eyed, the birds circled the air. They crossed themselves and parleyed français. They prayed for a good death, their despair supernatural. The sun came along and wept pure gold, the river of life a mordant water. Somewhere, carnivals and capers, a jade sea rushing to a colourful shore. But here, even the trees are miserable. Their tears are green. The willows are weeping. * |
Pushcart nominee Bruce McRae is a Canadian musician with over 900 poems published around the world. His first book, The So-Called Sonnets, is available via Silenced Press and Amazon. To see and hear more poems go to ‘BruceMcRaePoetry’ on YouTube.
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