Monday, January 30, 2012

Poems by Thom Hart


The sweet aroma
Released from
The pores of the earth
As the frost
Steadily thaws and
Spring is made
Apparent, yet it is
But January


I will love
You as long
As love endures
As a cliff
Resentfully juts
Out above
The sea.

I’ll find you

And I’ll search
High and low but on
The mountaintop I will
Find you waiting.
Do not leave me.


Look out the window,
Look, it’s me,
Or my soul.
Look, it’s a popped
Balloon, hanging
On a dead branch.
Look, I saw your
Face today, but
Every time it wasn’t
Look, my friends are in the crowd.


Blood vessels straining
You dare them to
Push their limits
I yearn with every
Inch of my body
Every breath,
Every thought,
Involves you.


Music on my eyes,
Relief, contentment
I am happy
Thank god,
A Monet.

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