In Transit

Under the grey green skies

By the wailing wall on Liark

I write your name

In the lucid petrol tears

Sliding down the slick blue facade

. . . jump . . .

The whippet trees lash­

In Troina’s gentle breezes

Their glossy lengths airborne

Scourging my outstretched arms

Desperate to pare memory away

. . . jump . . .

Wading in the venom gardens

My thoughts like contortions

The blinding sun of Chamnatol

Illuminates best hidden truths

There are four years given to every . . .

. . . jump . . .

Above slow circling Kthshod

I drink to your silent corpse

A life winked out inside four year’s span

Now I jump this existence away

To return the only way I know how

. . . jump . . .

{Nominated for Pushcart Award by Dimensionfold Press}

Fields of Parting

Out in the hoar frost cold

Under the uncaring lights

Of the faithless heavens

She lifts her tear-filled eyes

Shivers pulling her arms about her

To stare at the destinations

Wheeling overhead

As always Mayven finds her

Dressed too lightly for the cold

Stamping her feet unconsciously

Alternately considering the stars

And the uneven ground

Sorrowful echoes racing in her eyes

Of her love’s departure

From the Fields of Parting

With the other mercenaries

Out into the bowl of lights

Clucking to herself

In a timeless traditional fashion

Mayven grasps her arm

To gently lead her home

Away from the fields of parting

That once blossomed

With the incandescent blooms

Of the leaving ships

And have since lain fallow

Awaiting the return of such heat

Mayven glances at her eyes

Seeing always the same hollow dream

Filled only by the fields of parting

Full of the light of return