Saturday, 24 November 2012

Solar by Chris Crittenden

a rut of light
locks horns with pines

to loose
mercurial rills of gold,

gold licked and snatched
by manic leaves,

dribbling down
to vulgar shanties of decay.

even the swarth
of the filth that is death

luxuriates and swells,
guzzling the gift

sown from an infernal perch,

through unthinkable cold,

that gilds sapphire,
impregnates green and crystals,

gold to stir
incarnadine cores.

Chris Crittenden, Maine, USA


J.P.D. Iuvaro said...

Loved it. Beautiful blog!

Karen said...

This is lovely.

Geraldine said...

wonderful! wow.

PS: Adding you to my WP blogroll now.