by Dawnell Harrison

Wounded Whisper

My wounded whisper
Breathes on its own

Accord.
I do not tell it what to do.

The winter freezes the arc
Of my pain as time bends

And unbends the hours
Away like a lonely willow

Tree in the wind.
The arc of the sky is calling

Me with its reds and oranges
As the fractured light drifts
Upon my face.

Quiet

I should lie down
And live as quiet

As a mirror.
I reach for tender mercies

To find the air
Raging with fire.

I set the sky ablaze
With my fiery hands.

Birds fly like leaves
Through the sky

As I find it broken
And without.

Soot lingers on the grey
Ground as the fire

Burns the center
Of my pain.

Time

Time kills me horribly
As I skate upon a lake

Frozen with death’s calling.
My bloodless heart rages

On in the twilight
Of my impending doom.

Love has no dominion here.
Time will murder me yet.

Notes on Author’s Work:

As well as these three poems, more of Dawnell Harrison’s poetry can be found in the March 2013 issue of Eastlit.