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            Sense of Proportion
            By Ellaraine Lockie

            A late walk alone
            to let night fall on my losses
            Compress the ground
            that covers too many graves

            To let light from the fall moon
            mute a buried brother
            brain dead mother
            a love that died in fetal form

            I feel the serenity of nature's slumber
            November stripped of nervous energy
            The chilled night numbness silent
            as it supplants pain with apathy

            But the deadened senses shatter
            at the crush of dry leaves
            At footsteps falling from behind
            more brisk than mine

            At my heartbeat pulsing fear
            that I won't find a woman walking her dog
            Instead a stocking covered face
            above the moonlit glint of a blade

            And the cut steel sparkle
            of constellation stars
            connects nerve-ending knowledge
            of the enormity left to lose

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Document last modified on: 12/09/2006

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