Two Poems by Aaron Lynn

 

Dancing Little Skull

I'd like to know

Just what it means

To hear a devil

Whispering

Of things I've always

Shook around

In this dancing little skull.

My mornings are

The holy seat,

By afternoon

I'm bound to read

From stygian chapters

Burning wild,

And evenings are

The death of me.

Nascent Aura

When all joy

Is rescinded

And a shadow

Cloaks the splendid

And the strings

Scream out the coda of the rope.

When each sniff

Pulls in the rancid,

Each pursuit

Is disenchanted,

And wrecked is

Every vestige left of hope.

 

But still

The sun sits shining,

Though the dimness

Isn't blinding,

And we look

Upon that absence

With a heralding of doom.

But maybe if

We were wise,

We'd see that

Weak light canalize

Into a flower

We are waiting to see bloom.

I'll await the nascent aura

Of that patience-wrought perfume.

Aaron Lynn, lives in Boonville Indiana. He has been writing poetry since around 2010 when he was in early high school.