Another relic from the reliquary; I’m guessing it dates to about 1995 based on the other dated poems found in the box next to it. As you can see, I wasn’t always prone to minimalism in poetry. Modest edits made, mostly in the nature of culling or slight modification to word order to get away from the flowery feel it had that made if feel stilted in places.
I’d point out some of the intentional symbolism, but I don’t believe in doing that with poetry.
restless, the wind's whisper through autumn leaves the hoarseness deafens i am the stars i am the moon i am flowing, silent, liquid i am the turgid sickness i drag my stiffened body along our tangled life's skein towards the calling -- my name whispered across the waves the ninth wave, from beyond that white crowned crest calling for to join and i weep for the restful release
© Michael Raven