Only the cool,
Faraway sun
Diminishes
Age
With last autumnal
Tungsten
Spectrum,
Burnishing
Dying leaves
In beautiful flare.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
beauty
Red Pigment
Red pigment
Skeletal behind
Chlorophyll’s
Enriching shroud
Shows itself
In season’s end
And green nutrient
Departed.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Networks Of Spheres
From the intangible
Dream
Of mist
Subtle in earth’s
Morning breath,
Droplets
Condense
In webs,
Bringing them silver
And whole to the cool,
Tracing threads globular
And mapping invisible
In networks of spheres.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Intent On A Quiver
The wider blur
Of the near world
Is unimportant.
Only the vibration
Of prey, felt in quiver
Of struggle and entanglement
Is scope enough
For the leg
Intent on the sensory line.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Once Bold
As life
Is called to the root
And winter’s closet,
To sleep
In earthen cloak
And fold
All that was fine summery
And light green
Is made russet
And tinged gold
In withdrawing chromatography.
The once plump
Is made papery
And freckled
With age,
And transition
Is fading display
Of the bold
Brought
To its beautiful knees.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Stiff And Staid
Sometimes
I reach for the beautiful pen
Wanting
Loops
And graceful turns
Of poetry
To please the page
But find
My fingers fat as sausages
And the pen,
A cactus.
And my heart
Pumping sand
Through the plaque
Congealed
Narrowness
Of my veins
And so I write
The wrongness
So it might
Shift
From staid
And stillness
To the curves
Of energy flow,
The hopeful pen
Smooth on inky magic,
And once again imprinted
With tenderness untroubled.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Unarguably A Flower
We argue
As to the flower’s
Divine conception
Or arrival through
Random chance.
Yet there it is
Manifest despite our thoughts,
Unarguably apparent
To the miracle
Of our eyes.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Late Invitation
Red throat invitation
To late harvest.
Autumnal fade
To sun stretched yellow.
Leaves freckled
And close
To golden
Old age
And the thin skinned
Invisibility
Before crisp release
And disappearance.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Like Lights
Like lights
Jeweling city sprawl
Below the sky borne plane,
Flowers
Are various
In their
Luminous display.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Opening
Nearly all
Are coaxed
To fall
And join
The swallowing ground
And its earthly convey.
Yet
Some things
Are still
Opening.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
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