Siberian Monkey Suite

I.

 I think the Siberian monkeys escaped,

and fear that they shall never return.

The soft air holds them weightless,

and pin prick stars in dark eyes burn.

A brace of stunted angels, heedless,

sailing away in desperate elation.

From the long gone frozen reaches,

into an evening of their own creation.

And all I could stutter was nonesense,

for all I could see in your eyes was true.

I will wonder at night if they are safe,

and no one else will know but you.

 II.

They were never mine forever,

yet chaos deserted me too soon.

I miss those solemn, staring eyes,

the way that dawn will miss the moon.

The way my car longed for the night,

punctured by a cannon ball, unhealed.

The glowing road uncurled like smoke,

silently summer was revealed,

rearing above the highway signs,

the outline trembles as it appears.

Brightness returns, and your kisses

stream off my face like hot tears.

 III.

Imagining  your arms around me,

has never made your arms appear.

Your throat and face are often dark,

beneath the dark bough of your hair.

A murmer of softest pine caressed,

by a renegade wind through and through.

An unfinished dream calling me back,

the scene of a crime I long to return to.

Something lonely died, left something

undimished, delicate as pure desire.

Until palpable dark rolls below me,

likes shadows transmuted, corporeal fire.

IV.

White posts above an overpass,

stitch across the powder sky.

A journey is the punnishment,

for what is left behind.

Grey highway thrown like cable,

across as far as I can see.

Pastures unimagined,

roll away behind me.

The farthest trees are pale,

obscured by layered mist.

As if the sky itself descended,

upon landscape longing to be kissed.

 V.

Somehow they slipped away from me,

and melted into light for good:

the deer who lingered as though he’d been hired,

the distant madman splintering wood.

A bright solid river, unmoving,

your mouth uptipped and hair undonw.

Eyes that are sad and so serious

pull me like a blindman to the sun.

And something that was never seen,

can not be difficult to find.

Only your hat came between us,

only sunlight through my fingers twined.

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~ by tjeffcarey on February 3, 2012.

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