Courage
I should lionize
breath that flees the lung’s device
no routine roaring, but proof of life.
Melancholy
The birds mass
flight for
autumn’s
through the leaves.
I am torn
by the dying that
never
made some soar.
Delight
So many leaping beauties!
My heart gazelles over strands
of old gloom.
Bewilderment
This ape beneath the skin
beating on pots and pans
sounds a better rhythm
than the man.
Remorse
Lickingly content, the bear of hindsight
lumbers from his wintry hibernation:
bent and bloody in his brute bite
the should-have of past miscalculation.
Despair
It’s something to encounter all your hurt,
immaculate and snowy as an owl
gazing upon you from beneath its cowl
unblinking eyes as golden as they are inert.
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