04-06-2014, 06:07 AM
Ezekiel's Tears
Day breaks purple on the canyon faces.
Cactus, white as bone with teardrop pads,
Grip the stone, as the sun overtops the crags,
And bloom red, waxy, smelling graceless,
Rancid, mean. Bluefly swarm the stamens,
Grow swollen, wasted, glittering hazily as
The sun drives like a bison cross the chasm.
The white pads flush green as her rays
Slip down the dome of the deserted sky. Bats
Drop flightless from the deep creases, beneath the weird
Formations, as the day dies, fall as dead,
Toward the closing blossoms, thick with feted
Fly, spread suddenly their leather traps,
Feast, and scatter the seed of Ezekiel's Tears.
Day breaks purple on the canyon faces.
Cactus, white as bone with teardrop pads,
Grip the stone, as the sun overtops the crags,
And bloom red, waxy, smelling graceless,
Rancid, mean. Bluefly swarm the stamens,
Grow swollen, wasted, glittering hazily as
The sun drives like a bison cross the chasm.
The white pads flush green as her rays
Slip down the dome of the deserted sky. Bats
Drop flightless from the deep creases, beneath the weird
Formations, as the day dies, fall as dead,
Toward the closing blossoms, thick with feted
Fly, spread suddenly their leather traps,
Feast, and scatter the seed of Ezekiel's Tears.