at home in my brazen skull - a poem

At home in my brazen skull

Time lists slowly on the sullen breeze

Outside in the chilled autumnal wind

I catch hours from the day, embers dry

Seconds drag to minutes, then fly away,

I creep the morning hour,

It begging to be won,

I soldier under the dewy moon,

My candle burns the book I read,

The pages come alive, some words ignite

The memories of past advances, lost battles,

The real caught in verbs, what isn’t said,

Seductively unfolds to my clear mind,

Sentences bright with honesty and lies,

The concrete things caught in water’s ebb,

Flowing hither then dither, alive as my muddy river,

The good bits the deep middle, bubbling

From the wake at the banked edges’ tides,

Rivulets floating to the surface, breaking tension,

Bursting to the closest atmosphere,

Whence the arguing masses?

None to hinder me here,

Alone and happiest, most,

I recoil from the flickering flame,

Toppled it catches everything it touches aflame

My thoughts the fuel that feed it on,

Me, at home, now burning again….