Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

Marooned sobbing widow on cratered moon,
its silver grey surface a mirage of finely layered damask.
Facing turning blue white earth
you sing your song with a thousand caged larks tongues.
Your pale marbled face
an echo of human loss and remorse.
Jump sweet lady onto an advancing spotted leopard
quickly dissolving yourself into the imploding gates of heaven.

Autumn wind
trees lean lazily in their escape from spools of dripping
                                                                       waterfall sleep.
O compass gales bite deep aching aged tender bone
making me submit to dream awake,
transforming bark of tree into decomposing fragments of colour,
change of snowflake season.

Winter whirlwind lick moist gum from nomadic leaves
way beyond life dreaming,
only to leave exposed like a long preserved buried skeleton
a lamenting dog fox that openly basks in deaths sombre warmth.
Outstretched his orange red colour has been painfully mixed
by some unseen artists brush,
blending autumns fading rainbow.
Around him organic matter gathers and splatters
like long lost abandoned tears of children,
that now collects in rotating pools of rustic reds
and colourful dancing moth wings.
His tail like a speeding comet now without movement
lies lifeless and soft, an overturned obelisk.
The white tipped fur now echoes as a beacon for him to
swiftly follow through the labyrinth of life,
eventually guiding his animal light soul
to Gods eternal flamed spirit fire.

With slit eyes wide open
black vertical lines bleed in with orange shades of desperation,
a last futile attempt to suckle at lifes breast.
I walk away putting distance and perspective between us.
Using index finger and thumb of both hands,
I encase the foxes body in a human picture frame,
thus moulding from this very genesis
a unique piece of individual sculptured art.