again December

Night comes premature

a claw of light -

Strikes at the aerials

and tears

A still born darkness

out of the sterile clouds.

Again December

with its hungry winds

tonguing the rough bricks

panting for blood licks

This room

where every pretense ends...

These well provisioned cells,

these larval shrouds

Scenting the honey of my fears.

My December snarling prowls the night.

If God would

throw the window up and scream away

this nightmare,

If I could know

A morning ends the dream someday...

I'd loft my life again