it was a cold
october evening
the garden was dull
and still
a song bird sang
from her cold marbled hand
the statue shone
like incriminating desire
of fallen virtue
in arched eyebrows
of men
her stained eyes
shadowed
a submissive sky
sullen with taunt skin
of cracking flesh
and bones
too old for games
this child was caught
in a mental maze
of an opposite window
and her song
embraced the clouds
as darkness fell
she was that white
hole in the sky
hidden away
in inner earth's
mute cry
my stained eyes
held understanding
once again
as sand
and sea fell
in soothing coiled air
wrapped
in notes of her
black smoke
ascends
as blinds fall
against the sun
and a single star
shines
while her music warbles on
under a cold
october moon
Silver trophy winner
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Love, Lane
