The Composition of Shadows

The Composition of Shadows
by Michael R. Burch

“I made it out of a mouthful of air.”--W. B. Yeats

We breathe and so we write; the night
hums softly its accompaniment.
Pale phosphors burn; the page we turn
leads onward, and we smile, content.

And what we mean we write to learn:
the vowels of love, the consonants’
strange golden weight, each plosive’s shape--
curved like the heart. Here, resonant,

sounds’ shadows mass beneath bright glass
like singing voles curled in a maze
of blank white space. We touch a face--
long-frozen words trapped in a glaze

that insulates our hearts. Nowhere
can love be found. Just shrieking air.

Published by The Lyric, Candelabrum, Iambs & Trochees, Triplopia, Romantics Quarterly, Hidden Treasures, ImageNation (United Kingdom), Yellow Bat Review, Poetry Life & Times, Vallance Review, Poetica Victorian

The Composition of Shadows (II)

by Michael R. Burch 

We breathe and so we write;

the night

hums softly its accompaniment.

Pale phosphors burn;

the page we turn

leads onward, and we smile, content.

And what we mean

we write to learn:

the vowels of love, the consonants’

strange golden weight,

the blood’s debate

within the heart. Here, resonant,

sounds’ shadows mass

against bright glass,

within the white Labyrinthian maze.

Through simple grace,

I touch your face,

(ah words!) And I would gaze

the night’s dark length

in waning strength

to find the words to feel

such light again.

O, for a pen

to spell love so ethereal.

Keywords/Tags: composition, write, writing, poetry, poem, night, pen, pencil, computer, monitor, love, alienation, lonely, loneliness