Raymond Soulard, Jr. New Songs (for Kassandra) - The ...

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Habit
Glance compelled & again by hard hips &
steaming metal, whipping rhythm & cries for
promises near or worlds buried. Every face
its name yet knowing fruits little. I remember
ragged nights, wet leaves blowing off the sill,
knee to knee with him, her, we, hearts twist
for warmth, high complex of matter. Wracked
blowings, seeming gone. A shine & a tale, seeming gone.
******
Lorn
Dream a sun of flesh & flame,
its buried scent in my blood, its memories
how I watched breezes of daisies
in a half-moon’s light, its given some
spectral new world I cannot imagine,
its home where desire at rest, smiling to stone.
******
Gaol
I dream the cage within the cage
& humble pass in & out. The water
sparkles like kisses from a trusted
mate & yon smoky white god points
not up but around. A sore vow among
kind leaves remains: to sing & love.
******
The Cenacle | 59 | October 2006