Simon Perchik

This battered window box

has found an opening 

–with a single flower

 

is taking on the sun

though you use well water

fitting it into its shadow

 

as if madness needs a corner

for its darkness reaching out

the way your heart was filled

 

with river noise

that has nothing left to give 

–what you hear is the sun

 

swallowing ice as the antidote

to flower after flower and the mist

from someone breathing.

THE COURTSHIP OF WINDS

© 2015 by William Ray