Away My Love

Come away.
Come away and slur
into hovelling gray,
away from the heats
hummed low – away.

Come, let us carry
this mute owl night
far from burgeoning day –
away – far from the fury
of gospel – far –
far from the scurry
of commerce – away,

Into some bold and barren
moon scraped glen,
smoothed with teeth and talon
and then, away – away
into the myriad gray
of our own true making –

stone below pine,
pine below sky,
sky below nothing
but the want in your eye.

Come away, my love,
and tender a blaze,
for black is the sum
of all of our days.

But there, there, far and away –
bright upon some needled clay,
let darkness have its way, its way,
and gather we to fire, to pray.

Image: Nathan Anderson on Unsplash

4 Thoughts

  1. This is superb, lovely, beautiful! I love how it starts sweet and tender and steadily climaxes into a solemn sensation. It has that timeless classic quality that, really, most of your poems have. This one though, it stands out. One your very best I think. Kudos Devon!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.