Dark Days

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Dark days
Dawning
On the morning
Drawing the curtains
Across the window awnings
To blur
The wounded bird
Whose wings
Clipped and bled
Crimson red
Like the encrusted dead
But instead
The mounting steps
Block the passage
To sleep’s bed
In the misty twilight’s looming
Ghost shadows
Shrouded in smothered cloaks
Casting the times
Of gloom’s tales
Written in blue black cloth sacks
Like night drapes
With coats of arms
Holding me sway
On the run-away tunnel
Through cavernous walk ways
Deep in the valley
Of dark blue’s smoky pit
Under which
My eyelids
Hid
Secret dreams
To die off
In the storm’s rising gust
Scattering my ashes
As the dust
In the winds blown
Long ago
When ago
Was
Beside
The stilled minute of life’s time
Which blinked once or twice
At chances to go away
To when
I am no more
Bearing the weight
Of just being
Here
Being blue
Black
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