Monday, April 22, 2013

Stephen Ellis Poem OBSESSION poem from STEPHEN ELLIS for CLOUDBURST

Obsession

The white flare of
spring's first crocus
extinguishes itself

as time's song is
elevated where 
absence comes full

to reign.  To assign
desire to another
is madness, despite

I hear high winds
in distant trees
and the spread of

pollen overcoming
in its permeation
the quiet sanity of

chronology whose
integers discount
dream's full pain.

Ears are made to
hear illusion
and whatever truth

it carries: That is
why it has so many
folds. Like the wood

of trees that
grows in layers
around itself, from

inside out, hearing
flowers and one 
then knows the body

is not supported
by its skeleton, but
by the scar of

a lightning strike
made invisible,
along with the sound

of the sap of
a whirlpool's 
endless roar

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