Friday, January 13, 2006

Alibi Eyes


Time is watching ice, those alibi eyes. Lime is watching weather, splintered little haven. The willow tree is watching the blackest Baptist raven. Haplessly devout, manners like a lion. Those alibi eyes try not to save him. The raven was in the tree, the kitchen, and despair, one wing touching ether and one wing under repair.

Life is looking at the sun, burning her eyes. Air is watching her eyes, waiting. Autumn's primaries are parading, a river from her look. The sun is staring at the brook and the worshipers wading. Wordlessly alive, hunting down Orion, one eye on the sky and one eye on his beauty.