Death arrives – a breath; in sudden
Eyes once dry bear bones of malice
Eyes still dry perceived of malice
Curtains drawn past black; to air – open
Old as new as new to pasture
And I am[b] witness to inversion

Death, to you, how I ask this pardon
Eyes of mine drip dry
Side, inside, confusion muddles
Light-less constance acquired muddle
I am awful to be stoic
I am awful to be departed

Death, shall I save time for your next quarrel
Pierce the side of my alabaster peril
In which I am eternally humble
Soon to you do I know she’ll follow
Chambers resting high – depressed; shallow
And I am[b] wicked

these eyes, dry as bone


4 thoughts on “Decembrist

        • I’m trying to regain some discipline (see my erratic posting of late) 🙂

          And I only within the last year started trying to work with the classical forms. I actually enjoy the constraints at times and enjoy trying to puzzle my way out of jams. I also like how you can manipulate the form, say adding a syllable here or there or trochees or Pyrrhic feet, to add a sub-text to poems. It’s hard as hell and I’m terrible at it, but it keeps the brain active.


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