Aquarius heaven’s harmonious fingers moonlit on bent and outstretched oaken arms, muscled, this painful remembrance, mother to her once-suckling child, absent of all sight, vanished within the warm Gulf breeze, a ghost, perhaps, this gentleness and reassurance promised, never wavering, unconditional; Hark,
Awake outside the bedroom window, an ancient trunk, though weary, cries out in bitter anguish; its roots grasp the Alabama sifting sand of spilled backwoods blood whose pine needles hide this soldier’s narrow path, his final escape to redemption, either charge or retreat, it matters little now, finished, this fetid, brackish mud victorious, as bird sentinels fall asleep;
Left to overgrown solitude, gray lichen chessboard illuminated, this single Seurat night of abandon into pure abstraction, stars and lunar voices overheard, madness and then revelation of the unheralded, and with it the forest watches without judgment.
About the Author
Bruce Colbert is an actor, filmmaker, and author of six books of poetry and fiction. He divides his time between Chicago and the Gulf Coast. His newest poetry collection, A Place That Once Was, has been released by Red Dashboard Press.