confluence
it lies upon me as the light fades
the poem i have taken to heart
to write about what has been written
in their hearts of moon-blood
the turned page a weight either side
of the spine of the book nosed quietly
for the fingerprint smell of a composition
no longer moon-blood but a pressing
of a body of work against another’s pain
it seems the pit props creak a little
the seam of gold a bit further still
bookmarking the unintelligible tongue of
thoughts that are still under construction
oh what deep breath rejoins two poets
to paginate the tectonic words
to list the rivers at whose confluence begins
the longer mixing of the colours of their saying
where are the headwaters that spawn
either side of the watershed
what sea or endless plains
could not keep apart
these like souls at heart
the telling of each is the clarion
the flags that celebrate the wind
the gestures of farewell
leaving the question
did we meet thus
as sleep takes the quill quietly
and caps the inkwell’s shadow
the sun sets as a brass rubbing
on the lake of their thoughts
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