the art and writing of
News and recent work...
The December sky is facing
extinction, every sunrise paling.
Earth-entwined objects that need the light
reach up toward the heat, craving
even one mad fever.
A stream of days on the verge
of years, with a sky bleeding wine
over gaping mouths of rivers, stirs time
for the waiting faceless clock,
the spilled life running over.
Song ascends from the waters,
struggling to share the tears.
This plea to the bleeding sky echoes
like madrigals dancing us headlong
into a bitter winter.
© 2011, DJ Gaskin