David barnes

offerings

i wish it were spring
or summer;
but i know your game.

taking autumn's
burnt offerings,
ashes,

gray streaks my hair:

i see which season
shall win this sly life,

i know your changes
as i know well my own.

i offer ashes
to the one
who has claim to me.

white hair, pale flesh

lies lifeless upon
the pillow.


© debarnes 20001 september -22nd

send private comments to author: db@aceonline.com.au