Tilled Earth

And so the Sun rose – cloaked by Silence.

The sweet tones of morning sated my

Curiosity for death, and I understood

The Reproach of Robins,

Singers of repentance

Given to forgive.


I begged of them atonement.


And so the Sun climbed, colored by Silence.

The doldrum notes of mid-day inspired my

Quiet sinning, loud to the crocuses’ pure –

But naive innocence.

I tear up their naivete

To decorate my weeping walls.


They whisper wise innocence now,

Until they die.


And so the Sun hung for its crimes

In the 3 o’clock horizon, and I hung

With him.

He asked me to bury him like a king

But I have only two dimes in my pocket,

And those are being saved for the jester’s funeral

I promised the moon.


And so the Sun set and I set,

Both laid to rest

in tilled earth.


And when the moon was buried next to me,

I harvested.


And the Sun rose, and the sweet tones of morning

Sated my sorrowing seeds.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s