WeightA Poem by Daniel Affsprung
Another of my current favorites
The great, quiet significance,
In mist around a church steeple,
Shy autumn cloak of the sky's dark stiletto blade.
The sound of a firing squad
From several blocks away
Crisp, ringing in the new year.
In the tombstone shadow of nostalgia
Sweeping down from a window of the past,
Fleeing with the soft creak of the world sneaking up behind it.
The blinding lights of the freezing north,
The blood-soaked sands of the Garden of Eden,
These have a significance that screams for miles,
Tearing across concrete racetracks of thought into the present from the past.
But significance can whisper,
And the firefly's plea is brighter at night
Than a flash of gunmetal, cowed helpless to the thunderous sun.
These are the thoughts from the mute brain of the blindfolded obsidian Goliath
Whose hands are too crude to find the knot of his self-inflicted sorrow
Who has seen a footprint on the ageless face of the moon,
But not the shape of the stone that will bring him death.
© 2012 Daniel Affsprung
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