Poem from recent reading.

Here is a second poem, it is about the demise of nature's role as a mysterious, primal, worshipped entity in our world of green living and global warming---NATURE informs a lot of my writing, along with SEX and RELIGION--

the sleep of an old god is profound-a heartbreak

he was the world once now watching
it wane with dwindling sleepy eyes
through corolla nestled in calyx scent
faded color a memory

he lingers in galls falls like scales from
moth's wings haunts the mysterious
bubbles clustered at pond's edge his
quiet regret a whisper of fin in brackish
water the muted gleam of once-silver scales

he clasps death between rich gritty loins
a sterile pod his waiting cenotaph no seed
to scatter no green dreams of sticky sap
where stranded insects wait patiently for
hungry birds an offering to nothing no
remembrance for a stranger who picks up
a fallen bluebird feather more precious than
diamonds listening to cicada song more lovely
than bach and touches face to forest floor
kissing the sleeper goodnight

Timothy Wright April 2009
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