The 13th Month

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In the pause

the year of our Lord

with moons soft skin surface

she did remember

ashamed to be on cemetery road

with a wearisome lover , a toxic presenter .

her light lit in strangers

his first underground tantrum

the animals digging demanding ransom .

she did not die

she just went somewhere

the shrill trumpet

one long note , a siren cry .

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in the pause

the lunar month kingdom come November

she did remember

relief to watch the fish swimming shallow

scales of gold leaf a washed in splendour

like spaceships on cathedral wall frescoes ember

with Saints and kings

their cut off heads in glass case transgender

again the drum , again the drum

she did not die , she did not die .

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in the pause

in the headlights of the dark

she did remember

the moon , her body massive

a swell , no bones the cosmic fish anointed

river salmon swim the wrong way

yearning to be back home

the second tantrum

the compass north to abandon .

platinum gifts arranged before her ,

potatoes cooked in caves and grottos

a blind pony , perfect braids , a shiny shell anklet

the Good Harbor passage running

herds with broken heart clefts

a whirlpool startling birds

causing snake movements straight into a tree

where again the drum

booms lyrics now of Vermeer mood to see .

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she did not die

she just went somewhere

the shrilling trumpet hallows

its final note , Michigani’s brutal storm

her throne to sail on rising confessions possession

again the drum , again the drum

she did not die , she did not die .

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Last photo by Rosemary Alpert Photography

21 thoughts on “The 13th Month

    • To my long time friend here …thank you from my heart Hariod ! You must live near Glastonbury? …I looked and discovered the beauty of your “place” on earth …you are so blessed by your lovely surroundings I see . Sending love today ….megxxx

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Meg, your images always illumine. Reading this I loved the way you weave yourself so effortlessly through the world’s eternally stunning scenes. You are like a spirit slipping through the trees, appearing in the sky, the fish, the golden light. My heart always has to stop what it is doing, and watch, wondering where you will appear next. For she does not die…

    Peace
    Michael

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Meg your poetry is impressive and I would compare it to Jim Morrison (that’s a compliment BTW)! Just put it to music and you could be a star! I loved those super moon videos, did you ever find them??

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hi Dale ….thank you for your kind creative presence here …I’m so thankful our paths have crossed again since grade school .
      ( yes , those videos mysteriously appeared just like they disappeared )

      Like

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