the morning storm breaks
language open like
wars and wind, and we,
pulsing with clear substances,
throw arms around each other
waving our hearts before
the quick fires that rage against
the numberless waves throwing
spray before us. still, i sing
the silence, loving the orchestral
echo in the room crowed
with cool hands moving
among the dead leaves, the doors,
filled with clouds and parting.
Twenty 8
the stray gulls are silent,
but working at their circles,
they approach the cool
shadow of your body
inverted to white and deep
in the barren streets lining
the sand. our naked sickness
releases the smoke echoes
at last. rain and leaves.
and like the butterfly
frightened in sleep,
i taste solitude through
the creaking stone and
go barefoot to the altar’s ear.
Twenty 10
no one sees us in the sunset
or the mountaintops or the rain
or the twilight or the torch;
yet, when we turn our faces,
pure always and fresh like
nothingness, we breathe through
what surrounds us and listen
to coins burning and questions
being asked, and i, at least,
laugh, knowing it’s that or
silence as the earth pulls hard
on our shared voice telling us
the cape is dropped and
night is coming to a close.
Twenty 12
the birds are gone with
song, and still we stand like
masts in the wind, turning
without direction, though
certain of the pieces that
hold us centered and quiet
while around us nothing
echoes, no voices tell of
love’s voyages stretching
out eternally tall in story.
i have told you about the
sadness of wings with no
hearts and slept in your arms
when i should people day.
William Allegrezza's poems have been published internationally. His collections of poetry include Ladders in July, The Vicious Bunny Translations, Covering Over, In the Weaver's Valley, Fragile Replacements, and Collective Instant. Allegrezza is the editor of Moria and Cracked Slab Books.
© 2010 William Allegrezza
