There’s a leaf with bone eyes.
—–Alan, 27 October 2007

A lost friend stares from the trail.
She’s born with leaves, with strange
markings for eyes. A sunset is pebbled
into this mountain where no one finds
anyone, and every ghost sings their trees
to heaven, and a few crows fade to wood.

Do not ask forensics how she smiled.
Cover the fields with snow drifts, listen.
Shame the deep gullies into ape songs,
then play a leaf with bone eyes, move
this drought into your own village,
play the last place and time you remember,
and fall towards the evening wrens
with God and fossils gambled for home.


3 thoughts on “THE PALEONTOLOGIST’S LAMENT – Clyde Kessler

  1. Clyde writes from a strange world that is his only. I have not read one of his poems that didn’t take me there, where I feel most comfortable, and grateful to be invited.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s