wind (the artist of complaint)

a poem by Dale Costello, Australia - poetry writer, author, poet

don’t fill my sky
with your drab colours
some paint by numbers
sketch of my heart
I didn’t start
in the same place

nor run a race
of known particulars
nor assume
any thought to exhume
and paint sacred..

these words true wings
and wind
should light or Muse
inhabit the feathers
slick and mocking all angels
their leather faded

their leers jaded
the majesty of intimacy
every goodbye set free
into a hot crackling sky
purple in its veins..

early we woke
Night and all that spoke
lest they be taken
a Universe to the breaking
noise of their words
shadows to the hurt

and every world made sky again
breath and new breath
only idea knowing death
never defining the wind..

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