Barbara duBois ~ Pisces Full Moon Rising

Barbara duBois ~ Pisces Full Moon Rising

The dead bird, color of a bruise,
and smaller than an eye
swollen shut,
is king among omens.
 
Who can blame the ants for feasting?
 
Let him cast the first crumb.
 
~
 
We once tended the oracles.
 
Now we rely on a photograph
 
a fingerprint
a hand we never saw
 
coming.
 
~
 
A man draws a chalk outline
first in his mind
 
around nothing
 
then around the body
of another man.
 
He does this without thinking.
 
~
 
What can I do about the white room I left
behind? What can I do about the great stones
 
I walk among now? What can I do
 
but sing.
 
Even a small cut can sing all day.
 
~
 
There are entire nights
 
                                I would take back.
 
Nostalgia is a thin moon,
                                                              disappearing
 
into a sky like cold,
                                         unfeeling iron.
 
~
 
I dreamed
 
you were a drowned man, crown
of phosphorescent, seaweed in your hair,
 
water in your shoes. I woke up desperate
 
for air.
 
~
 
In another dream, I was a field
 
and you combed through me
searching for something
 
you only thought you had lost.
 
~
 
What have we left at the altar of sorrow?
 
What blessed thing will we leave tomorrow?

—Omens by Cecilia Llompart


Crow by Sasha Siem