Until

the boy's dogs are barking
into the void
morning has no beginning
the dogs well meaning
do their job
keep barking at phantoms
locked behind the dark veil
impostor that is the sun

he is caught in
helpless in
lost in
the fast moving saturations
the melancholic folly
steep

ly
de
scend
ing
steps
to
help
less
ness

he sees in you each day
as if for the first time
lives of day and almost lives
he sees in you the quiet nights
the train leaving his high desert
its whistle ever forlorn
absorbed into all that is
almost gone

the clouds are black
the moon is black
the sky is black
the mountains looming
black
everything is behind
nothing is coming back

the roadside flowers
are wild and haunting and troubled
they clutch at each other
some brown without petals
some with few petals some desperately
holding on to their full glory
they are all friends together
in their colorless deaths

in the time when time asks for forgiveness
pauses to reflect on the truth of its unenviable chore
the sun returns turning inward
pouring its liquid rays down in a steady stream
the flowers revitalized drink deeply
count the days certain
endings are never certain
until

JP Pestana October 20, 2016

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