victoria harbor 

antebellum afternoons (and union nights)

green leaves, greener leaves
I can only sit here--
and wait for them to fall brown
and rotten from the bows stretching
towards me. I want them dead.
Empty of chlorophyll, finished
with vitality and nurishment.
Worthless but for the rake and fire.
Yet the night creeps from the dusk
and takes life out of it all.
From green to black,
from blue to gold to midnight
and moonshine.
Then those darling foliage
cast no light but shadow
deep swaying dark and
emptiness where we may
hide away from the truth and
what we may do out of the light.
I can find redemption under
the canopy of night, but it
only betrays
from the view of the world
in full light.

Like the First Time

Hi, just wanted to welcome you to my new blog. Oh god. I've become one of them.