We are waiting, selfishly,
For time to come and muffle us;
Our lips, our eyes, we are the dark,
Listening for the sound of earth
To crumble us, to fill our mouths.

		Everything is quiet. We take a seat
In case of fire. It licks our graped old thighs,
But we like it, we so do like it,
When darkness does its knocking.
A huge long sound that shakes the leaves
Of trees outside- we are their basket

Because they fall, and we so do like to catch them;
As birds defy their father's snoring, away from 
Tables as they roost. Clucking tongues
On yellow beaks. They are the crows, the gawping 
Birds. They see us through our petty blinds.
You cannot breathe without us

		Darling loves, but our time has come to 
Sleep a little. Don't get too fat, or you might burst.
A Jack O' Box of black and red. On our roof, all over us– that
We might enjoy, when we're asleep, two old sleeping fowls like
Us. Until then, hush, we need our rest.
The sky above is inches thick:

When we are gone.

		When we are are      .

Β© copyright Eve Redwater 2012


24 thoughts on “Taphephobia

  1. Have truly enjoyed reading through your poems, Eve! What a delight! Thank you for visiting my site; I look forward to receiving your posts and riding your imagery. The photography is wonderful, too. What a gift!

  2. nice…really like how you weave this together…the bird..the real…with the surreal…and much enjoyed your use of imagery here… the sound of earth
    to crumble us and fill our mouths…nice..

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