They Meet After Many Years Poem by Glenn Bagshaw

Beneath the burnished genie lamp of moon
with eyes of sixty watts, some cats now coil.
They move as flowing currents and night soon
tells dark truths as sable as their tails. Black soil
of sky has stars as crops, lunar dusted! .
'Day-done-at-dark' is just the dullest life
for noon bluffs- puffed up, blown-up, burst, busted.
It flares sunshine and flames hell-days of strife.
Night waits, inked blindness sees so clear, so right!
Sure, late, the hawks have shrilled the skies to kill,
Revived; old 'recall' rallies rear-view sight,
while survive the dreams evenings might fulfill….
Talk cools and stops in gloom. We drift apart;
deaden, darken. Frost veils each withered heart.

--
THEY MEET LONG AFTER. COLD EVENING TALK

Beneath the burnished genie lamp of moon
with eyes of sixty watts, some cats now coil.
They move as flowing currents and night soon
tells dark truths and tongues work tails. The black soil
of sky grows stars: sprayed crops, lunar dusted! .
'Day-done-at-dark' is just the dullest life!
Noon bluffs. It's puffed up, blown-up, burst, busted
to flare sunshine and flame hell-days of strife.
Night waits, black blindness sees so clear, so right!
Sure, late, the hawks have shrilled the skies to kill,
Revived; old 'recall' rallies rear-view sight,
here survive? dreams, that evenings might fulfill….
Talk cools and stops in gloom. We fall apart;
deaden, darken. Frost veils each withered heart.