Fire in the Place of Nowhere

Originally written: December 13, 2009

She's gone in
The thick, endless rows of name
Engraved stone arching doors,
Hinged to the placid sky;
It opens to nowhere.

I seek her name,
In that place of nowhere,
Hidden in the ray deprived
Tint of an icy blue light.

Willow whips hang thin
In the penetrating cold;
Swaying with a mocking ache,
Howling in hibernation.

Dead skin and limbs fall,
Piling into a monochrome pallet,
Whose crunch underfoot fills the space
Alternating layers of ice and rust
To calender neglect.

How easily could my spark bloom
Natures barren womb into a bouquet of living red.
My seed would spread like wild flowers
Immersed in the temporary comfort of
A warm embrace.

I close my eyes
And strike a red head
With a kiss,
Waiting for its charming lullaby.