Warren Falcon (04/23/52 - xxxx / Spartanburg, South Carolina, USA)

Lullaby One

Remembered gait of young ponies toward
the spring's sweet water


Remembered laughter of the frail daughter there
beside the fields sweet grasses


The daughter, as the water, passes into silence


Lullaby Two

Distant crows sound the morning field beyond pasture


Dew murmurs names upon passing grasses


still, the woods echo


Below
a stream's gash extends

slowly suspires erasing dimensions
of width and depth


Lullaby Three

Blue the waters at a distance

Blue the tails of otters

Blue the eyelids of sleeping beasts
nested beneath the earth


Lamentation Song

Dear one

Dear one

They've mown the hill

The grass remains


The modern scythe and sickle
felled the frailer blades but stained
their metals green with your name

Now the sun alone shines

burns that hewn spot where I first
learned to love your passing

where I watched your leaving
grow wild and lovely,
untamed beside the stream

learned to hear the quiet there
where now a cycle is begun


A new season of your death
is running rampant again to know
the blades of time and men