Savior

The Autumnal trees ungarbed

Save for the green velvet moss

And the charcoal of finches.

Eyes a sheeny grey-blue film,

Skin like white lace and honey.

The foggy morning pine, strung

With nests and floating trails

Of paper crepe, branches slung

With the silver frostbite ice.

She is the panoply to

My mysterious ace of

Spades, Her lips a shimmering

Patina, oily with gloss,

Slick as a star in midnight…

Love is blind, and stuck so full

Of vices, pincushion pink

Spread out like the vast maw and

Rictus grin of new-scrubbed flesh…

Death trades in love, dealer of

Dark cards and pale destinies.

And her eyes a father’s pride.