By: Nattie O’Sheggzy 

ECHOES ON THE RIVER BANK

The moon carries a lonely shadow
of the fully fledged tree behind the gazebo
sentinel of the ebbing clouds in its bosom
but all its head is gone
the distance between sight and flight
that distance is the weird words we detest
as if asking our silhouette to sit alone
beneath the stars
now gone away with the night
and the soul of the dead barks at the sky
the living whisper to the shadows
swimming in dark secrets
as they recede along the river bank
where even death does not cost any more
than the fifty words dressed in poetry
in the obituary column.

WIND & DANCE

a flurry of fires dripped like lyrics
vulcan emptied on Crocus dance floor
up & down tumbled hips & hands & heads
neon on & off darkened the dark corners
life pulsated to rhythms of vibrating air
ochre smoke hovered in the skyroom
it was wild & they too were fired up
dancers sweated ocean with legs high up
I felt the rustling so real in my bones
I didn’t like the room of my heart cluttered
with dance & winds & smoke.
Here I sat on the table-edge of triumphs
a brave baby feeding history books
knew a burden heavier than dance & smoke.

THE DEMON I KNEW

I have carved light in the windowpanes
to define the demons
and walk away with the smell of cloves
but the grate grazed
my chiseled resolve to break the teeth of silence
gripping many browning nights.

I have learned to number the atoms of dust
streaming in like cascading tears
of icicles and the charades
of abandoned laughter

caught between the jaws of owls
when I came to claim my space
among the frozen gods and marble statuettes.
Like the wetness of dawn
an abundance of howls
stuck to the guts of my unvoiced shrieks

Only the clenched teeth are the witnesses
to the unbundling of the sweat
crammed in the unsealing of myself.
Now I am rapping the thin door
stooping to patch the crevasses
and the smithereens of my soul.

I thrust my head near the ceiling
my soul a phoenix risen from the ashes of me.
I have battled the goblins, shattered the pains.

SHORELINE VIGIL

The silver shore beckons, a haven from the night,
as darkness falls, a blade of shadows takes its toll.
The weight of time, a slow and heavy creep,
a samurai’s stealth, a whispered threat, a heart omits a beat.

The stars above, a scattering of embers cold.
Echoes of a far away past, a haunting melody to hold.
Fearlessness lost, a word in the wind,
as night’s dark fires consume, and I am made to rewind

the remnants of what’s left: a half-eaten feast;
the rinds of memories, the nettles that pierce and tease;
planets aligned, a compost of boundaries blurred;
bodies and souls, a veil of clouds, a clod that’s stirred.

I slam the door shut, a scream startles the air.
Seagulls take flight, a silver shore, a refuge to share.

HEAVEN’S GRACE

When rain descends from heaven’s gentle vault
and breezes refreshing beauty exalt
the world awakens, verdant and new
and all around, such a peaceful hue

the rainbow’s vibrant prism then appears
a symbol of hope, brandishing all cohere
its arching beauty spans the sky so wide
a promise of peace, where love resides.

The rain’s sweet scent and music to the ear
echo the harmony that’s always dear
in every drop, a calming elixir is found
washing away worries, leaving peace inbound.

So let the rain fall, and the rainbow shine
and in the admixture, shall our souls entwine.