The Naked Troubadour

Broken Nails [poem]

Posted on Oct 1, 2011 Updated on Mar 30, 2017

and so I visit basements
once again
wherein were crushed
my childlike wanton joys
where mirrors make reflections
[rude (arcane)]
and strangely stunted weapons
fate deploys

I climbed that mournful mountain
(twilight dawned)
the specked unsweetness
masked
the lightful rays
the temporary truce we held
was mourned
across the landscape darkness
strewed bouquets

But yet I cannot
rip
     my
          flesh
     from
yours
the futile foundling’s
ragged swaddled swathe
was cut across the path
which reassures
while all my dreams
surrendered
to your lathe

illuminated avenues I saw
but now my broken nails
on cliffsides claw

© 2011, Alan Morrison