Beckon

Beckon
Wreckage reckon
Couched confession
Camouflaged lesson

Suit yourself
Upon the sill or shelf.
Half-hearted, workshop elf
Jingle jangling little pelf.

Windy, windy echo
Never, never let go.
Whistling hearted, lonely
Tunes if you had only.

Only what you had.
Memories now make you sad.
Mirror facets catch the light.
Words you left that don’t seem right.

Oblong thoughts,
Stretched from pulling.
Sharp bon mots,
Rusted, dulling.

My heart, tattooed
On a bicep sleeve,
Reserved for magic
Tricky thieves.

So long it’s been,
Since was the day.
Once black and white
Now charades of grey.


7/7/21