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Thursday, February 13, 2014

THE CLOCK WAS TICKING



The Clock Was Ticking

To love rarely
rather than deeply
is words falling
between the spaces of
my spread fingers;
the untamed air is rushing past
the tender vulnerability
of years of yes;
the weight of a feather
balanced to a heart.
Love
rushing past our
tender faces as the heavens 
annihilates the wisdom
of my loneliness.
In my solitude,
I crave and take the sweetness
of flesh between pages,
between the whispers
of words,
between the moments
of your definitive parchment,
between what my creation craves.
Exhausted I pause,
in my lone footsteps
for the dirge of you and I
knowing
I would have rather loved deeply
than died.
 TJK

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

SNOW



Snow

One
brief sunrise  hidden behind
a thick veil of cold, gliding
slivers of silver ice gradually
silencing the earth.
Milky moon, gray blue reflection
asleep and alone close to the inglenook.
Barren blanket of white
caves in the birds and huddles in the mouse.
Branches are the air’s tendrils of the sea,
water’s growing crystals, blanco fingered coral,
tez pale morning birthing frozen tears.
TJK