mirror and ponder.
see how you breathe
without body or voice, betrayed
look how you've gnawed and swallowed
the rust is so bitter.
you are travail, an apocalypse,
sun going down.
someone has hung their gasps in
your eyes, brushing
your hair with stony silence
the evil you note is a strangled brook, still
gurgling, the curl of the shriveled
leaf, a fallen deer.
as for good there is only divine
indifference, the drowse
the soaring wren
you are a benediction,
a destruction, gone mad
in the light
--Jo VonBargen 2012
*Note: A piece of history. There were days and weeks like this. Not so much anymore.