Burning Time


cut the thread,     my ghost advises,      be kind
to one deserving kindness, and all deserve
kindness.          shut up, ghost,     I softly say.     what
strength have I for closing doors of metaphor,
or deconstruct again bridges I’ve burned
but replaced with ferries  .  .  .  just walk away,
she whispers.     walk away?     such a simple
concept, yes, but simple and easy not

equate.          putting my mind to other tings,
I write of eagles and fish skipping across
river waters, reprieved from the eagle’s
talons—for the moment.     upon the sunset
my ode in wisps of smoke, old letters, old
poems burning in the autumn twilight . . .

David M Pitchford
11/11/11

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One thought on “Burning Time

  1. I like this sonnet: “what
    strength have I for closing doors of metaphor,
    or deconstruct again bridges I’ve burned
    but replaced with ferries . . ” seems to me to be the heart of what you are saying in the context of the “ghost”. The last stanza is really, really strong.

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