Midnight Poetry

Four Seasons

first guitar
At dawn, she weeps invisibly and mourns
another wasted sunrise.
A memory of his awkward touch,
the fiery thrill in his eyes,
being the first, the child of his spring.


second guitar
At noon, the silence glows and she wails
another prolonged absence.
Longing for the longest fingers
to strum her back to life,
to water her, the maiden of his summer.


third guitar
At dusk, the edge of now and after,
another uttered groan
for the best fruits of his labor,
for the airy flight of her victory,
deep in her body, the mother of his fall.

fourth guitar
At midnight, she watches over his sleep,
another dreamless dream.
Strings cry for passion, but the spark is gone,
earth calls, he hit the bottom
with her, the crone of his winter.