Poetry Danny Earl Simmons — May 14, 2013 13:48 — 0 Comments
Pantoum: Miles Away Gray – Danny Earl Simmons
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide – Rudyard Kipling
Waves crash in miles away gray.
I cannot see them or hear them
from where I wander the shoreline
in search of your face, my son.
I cannot see them or hear them
as they rise and fall and die white.
In search of your face,
I go unheard as they go unheard.
As they rise and fall and die white,
your goodbye becomes a pale stare.
I go unheard as they go unheard.
When will you return, my son?
Your goodbye becomes a pale stare
from where I wander the shoreline.
When will you return?
Waves crash in miles away gray.
What am I?
Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies
Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;
Scientists can't find me.
Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—
Remind me:
The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…
Tick, Tock: Divine me.
-- Richard Kenney
