Ravenous

There was of course a year

when priests paraded in their darkness

juvenile ravens still unsure

of just how far behind

to leave the nest     externalized

from the speckled world

of childhood     a day beyond

and then another     painting

a landscape as it unrolled

beneath the lulling wind of time

*

nothing compared to what

was still to come     a simplistic

soundtrack swelling as poor editing

patches together dreams

of shadow and water     tasting

the miracle in a world of stone

and glass     pumping out the poison

that would otherwise breathe

as sickness     it’s love

and it’s close to hatred

*

it’s a cutting open and a sealing

long forgotten when he looks back

from his future vintage     silver

buttons and fading scars     written

on the body but lost to the mind.