The Tilted Earth

Love’s old smoke riddles love’s new breath,

Feeding the midnight mouths of love - a dry cry,

Love once snared away their hearts from death,

Two deaths are better than one now - her mathematical surmise.

His white page unfurled all the black knives in its lee,

Her love she folded up, safe and warm in her blanket,

The moon sang - the more you see, the more you see…

But whoever cared to ask him - what now, what next?

Her autumn body a leaf of gold unperturbed,

Uncharitable forevermore to his love’s winter of acid,

Her belly held back the spring with the flitting bird,

Final fires on the blanket, and soon it was all placid.

Art called their love then - an axial tilt of our mother earth,

Are seasons stillborn thus - a tilt proved well its worth?