Farewell 1

The valley was bluer
and the evening and skull
were joined

while on the wind
the shadow
giggled with happiness.

The little evening breeze
sounded again.
Voices came close.

Wind waves flowed
for a moment with
footsteps in the brush, now

closer than before.
The spinevoice called from
up the river,

turned and looked
toward them, and leaves
rustled a little.

A sound of crashing
reached into the darkening,
listening with the distance,

and the shadow in the happiness
giggled so you could
almost see it, almost reach it.

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2 thoughts on “Farewell 1

  1. This is so strangely apt, Mike. the hints of death, of an end to us all in a sense, the almost hysterical, sinister laughter a reflection of fighting the sadness of farewell, but also the insanity we face annually. Then there’s the fact that this intensive work reduces us to skeletal figures. That’s how we seem to end up each year, fractured beings, not much more than a collection of identifying numbers. That overarching shadow figure is menacing. Your powerful piece elicits very ambiguous responses – part terrified, yet with a recognising smile of tacit assent. That’s one of the hallmarks of your poetry; an initial lightness of tone, ofen humourous, yet lurking below, powerful intimations of our own mortality. Thank you, Mike

    Liked by 1 person

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