Michael Brosky Poems

Could you hear the whisper
At silent prayer during mass?
Perhaps a glimpse of shadow
Or a little chill that passed?
...

Winter fires flare in your eyes
Dance of light up from your aquatic heart
So that the shadows and darkness depart
To faint whale song and dolphin sighs
...

Something is up there above the clouds
Some kind of motion from the lost
Radio chants and eldritch sounds
Only the angels know the cost
...

All of the black sheep have herded their horns
All of the sad angels have spoken with tongues of thorns
Creep up that lonely chimney, been awhile
Open every tome across the table and tile
...

Where is that window I can stare through, where no one will stare back?
Where is that light I can dwell by where the crows will not descend?
As I turn over stones and reel in disgust,
I try to remember my name
...

I think I know now
What Conrad Aiken meant
When he spoke of
The brute step of God
...

Winter saints shine like asphalt stars
They scrape as dried, brown leaves in the breeze
Soft as a faraway sun upon the bare and dormant
Harsh and woeful prayers on a midnight freeze
...

The night is sweet and cold
Feel the blanket, seek the fold
Sunless, screaming, dreaming sold
Investigate
...

Dark bird of penance, wheat field significance
The beast tracker must promulgate the resolve
The hunt and harvest must play out and evolve
Past mind jam, somewhere in this total expanse
...

Do we keep the dead here clinging to the shadows and cold?
Are we so lost at their leaving to hold them at their expense?
Would they go on to the sure reward even if they were told?
Are memories enough to comfort us in this past tense?
...