Q&A with Vincent Lowry discussion

Poetry > The Gale

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message 1: by Vincent (new)

Vincent Lowry (vlowry) | 122 comments Mod
The Gale

The poet's bones were unearthed
some twenty thousand years after 2013,
the date his heart became one
with the starry silence, the endless black vacuum.

Watches filled the rib cage,
hour hands pointing every possible direction,
a six o'clock aiming at where the aorta
had once channeled life,
a three o'clock tracing the path
of the now nerveless vertebra.

A femur lay atop a fractured humerus,
both separated in life and critical for survival,
now joined forever as a cross
and serving the world of the departed.

The only surviving words of the poet
bled from a yellow bank receipt:
hand written,
last drops buried in the heart of his skull.

What of the ocean song,
the hymn of forgotten tides?
What of the felled trees laid long,
the chasm of their birth one finds?
What of night and lovers embraced bare,
the desiring souls searching truth?
What of this writer's hair made fair,
the yesterdays bought with youth?
What of the stars and worlds beyond reach,
the distant lands forever remained locked?
What of the one world we leech,
the home our actions have mocked?
What of the plans yet to be,
the reign of tomorrow's child?
What of these hands I see,
the unfinished work which has piled?

Oh how this gale tries my spirit.

message 2: by Andrea (new)

Andrea (hermia) Love the poem Vincent! The imagery is powerful and really does tell a story. Keep composing my friend!

message 3: by Vincent (new)

Vincent Lowry (vlowry) | 122 comments Mod
Thank you, Andrea!

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