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The Web Poetry Corner

S. Black

of

Phoenix, AZ, US

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tamper

by

S. Black

great dreams and last car passing,
quests accustomed to waiting
here a crimson spear puts funk into the stars,
barely touching
crippled youth
this long drawn out climb to the top of nowhere,
innocence walked proudly
Chief heart and soul still waits upon the silent rock
there on the edge of the swallowing river
he hears the wind and seeks no reply,
anymore.
In the holy archives of dust
where feathers are suffocated
angels buried in the greedy soil
below the strands of faded yellow hair
is the tender surface,
the great dream growing.
The intertwining of child and death
the mixing breed
the growing offspring of a falling tree
listening now if one can see
the unending dirge carried by the winds
several pipes drowning flutes
and strings plucking wildly near the center
found within oleander islands
on top of last been places,
there is where the drone begs
begging for tamper.