Elephant Pages

These pages

White, dusty down,

Nests 

Collecting in walls

Sitting silently in Rigor mortis

 

Mothers,

in shields of glass where sun so nimbly

circles their concerns

And yes they

Have their notions too; torches of sweetness

Night where pages still have partners of voice

Still burn over elephant minds in travel

Distancing

Darkening bellies of fantasy

 

And though it be a fearsome star

Like Satan an angel

Memories come crawling

They scuttle like millipedes

Consistancy knocking…

Tiny mud-laden shoes

collecting at my door

 

Yet here

They will find no madman

 

Perhaps brief gestation

The elephant of man once peering outside

My hooves and hide desperate

Despairing as September,

Quivering in this brief moment

Quivering

In trance of awe

 

Above; below

A resting shade

My militant bridge circles alone

Streams and croons of the seasons in ecstasy

 

Pages lifting to feel the breeze

And spring as once this elephant

Plentiful

Alive

Rumples in the watery red