David W. Parsley Posted July 22, 2011 Share Posted July 22, 2011 PRELUDE: THE ATTUNEMENT May: I am looking for your voice. The night is gravely wounded by your absence. Each mountain yields to what cannot be learned of the darkness: a fading more powerful than persuasions of the bright unrememberable; clouds like gauze or ermine drawn across the distance of vision receding to impermanence. The air assumes without pain its duties. Burden of separation is lifting with mist from the dew. Each naked embrace of your arm I commit to the memory of hills, fog afloat dawn on their sleeping shoulders. Trees lick the light like infant giraffes at the ear of day. The repertoire of the forest is endless. The wilderness tunes like an orchestra. Morning comes. We wait for you to conduct. first published in Poetry Panorama of the Utah State Poetry Society winner Lake Oswego Festival of the Arts © 2011 David W. Parsley Parsley Poetry Collection Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.