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Half-Buried By Change

written by: Dah



How quickly moving
another season crosses the sun
the months
with their transformations

I can name the motion
of each season
the stars boiling over
or the moon’s muscles

decomposing in morning’s light
or a rousing dawn
setting fire to the ocean
the flames dipping

in the strips
of lifting waves
that skip across the shore
to be

choked down by sand
and sealed, like a crypt
The end of summer
is an old animal

molting, shedding, losing fur
like a dog
that no longer licks its balls
its tongue dry and thirsty

I’m sucking juice from a plum
while the first autumn leaf
ripples with the breeze
together they make crestfallen music

that is sweeter than this fruit
sadder than this poem
The light is different now
almost fragile



DAH is a Pushcart Prize and Best Of The Net nominee, and the lead editor of the poetry critique group, The Lounge. The author of nine books of poetry, he lives in Berkeley, California, and has been teaching yoga to children in public and private schools since 2005. DAH is working on his tenth poetry book.

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