Antarctic Whispers

On the right side of

Everything…

A sunrise, a sunset…

Direction means nothing

As we bathe in the confused glow

Of first or last light.

We remain undistracted

By the Glimmer,

Remaining weary of promises

Kept and unkempt, promises

Made well, but of uncertain motive…

Of the distracting, muddled words

Drifting to our ears, carried by

A frozen breeze as the ice

Builds around us,

From the wild-west towns on

The jagged, rocky shore…

Drifting unseen over, across,

The currents pulling at our vessel…

Wild words said without remorse,

Without regret,

Without sorrows,

Without tears shed over

The unsaid meanings

Of battles not our own,

Of just plain words.

Somehow, we hear the voice calling

From the watchful eyes on our bow:

Port, Starboard, Port…

And we make it through

These dark, closing waters,

Through the silent black air,

Safely, without incident…

Until we are

One night closer

To home.

The Properties of Dust

The Properties of Dust was a small book I put together in 2005 for a desktop publishing class at Portland State University. Many of these pieces were written specifically for the book project, and the rest date back to as early as 1990. The pieces were accompanied by a photo or two in the original book, but, in most cases, I am using different, more recent, photos with this series of posts.

1.

The Well

Moreh

Orienteering

Tides

The Properties of Dust

2.

Storm

Oncology

Upon the Ruin

Golgotha

Demolition

3.

Watching a Woman From Across the Room

Moonrise

First Snow

Antarctic Whispers

Lines

Bedtime Prayer

4.

The Red Car

Something Lost

Slough

Home

After the War

5.

Lair

Love Poems

If you appreciate posts like this, please consider becoming a monthly subscriber through Patreon!

Visit my Patreon page for more information.

Rubble by A. F. Litt

Website