September 24, 2024 Poetry

Another Hiding Place

Artwork by DALL·E

 
lilac draped courtyard,
melancholy compost,
spousal tongue erects blockades—

                                                               the I (eye) tires of the 
                                                                      restrictive,
                                                                familiar imagery—

swampy masses, 
yellow nerves
seeking, rebinding 
our mutual
human/animal connection—

                                                                    arms of fog,
                                                                  thorns of glass—

i (eye) am stuck
like the black, white 
lionhead rabbit—
head, neck
caught 
in the broken fence—

                                                        commandeering interior,
                                                             exterior hutches—

our mutual 
home, escape—
human/animal branches—
sentiments—
fall trees, leaves
uprooted

                                                                        where
                                                            long-winded, emotive
                                                                        gales
                                                                 drip! drip! drip!
                                                         red, slick with precision—

sometimes the heart
is a seething,
shaking baby rattler
ready to strike 
from beneath the bunched-up
underbrush of the thorny gut—

                                                             sometimes the heart
                                                             is a fist-sized mouse
                                                                    scurrying,
                                                            backtracking to avoid 
                                                          the menace of the brushy
                                                                confrontation—

oftentimes the heart 
is empty—

                                                             another hiding place.

Andrew Buckner

Andrew Buckner is a multi award-winning poet, filmmaker, and screenwriter. His script Dead Air! won Best Original Screenwriter at the fourth edition of The Hitchcock Awards. Also a noted author, Buckner runs and writes for the review site AWordofDreams.com.

Profiles:

X/Twitter: @@moviesforlife09

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Another Hiding Place

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