Sunday, April 15, 2012

Nothing all that good

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Good Friday

The dead mouse in the road some cat dropped last
night when the moon wasn’t looking, the dawn wind
gathering a head of nothing you can put your finger
on and on it goes. The sad carnival brings a rusty cheer
to the little lives that trudge the weeds to get to the rides.

Some fields look better left empty than to be visited by
such dolorous dreams-be-gone. In your eyes, the light,
the heat warms up from the radio as we make our way
east past a group of people bearing a large wooden cross
along the roadside, Good Friday being an occasion for
nothing all that good to emerge or abstain from any of this.

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Hawks have been hovering above me for days now,
another just last night on my way up the hill, skimming
the seaborne horizon pacing my silver sedan, our gazes
locked on one another. In the distance, a black circle of
sky scavengers wheel and rotate as if pinned to an axis of air.

Unto them is all given in the end and grateful go I hence
when that day should come. The moon sets like a pompous
messiah over the western ridge. Rabbits scurry brushward
and a roadrunner’s tail disappears down the draw in hurried
strides . Some consequence yet hanging in the dawn will
amass to deliver itself soon enough. I will wait and practice
the noble art of patience and hope it arrives sooner rather than.

Joseph Gallo
April 6, 2012


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2 Comments:

Blogger Kyle Kimberlin parried...

Great work, Joseph. A place of black shrouds and snuffed candles. A touch of magical realism.

April 16, 2012 11:19 AM  
Blogger Joseph Gallo parried...

And here I was going for some light snappy versitude. ;-)

Thanks, my friend.

April 16, 2012 9:08 PM  

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