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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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Prince of Persephone




 

You come in with the snow in winter,

an ebb and flow at frozen glass.

Into these rooms of dark dead souls

you breathe me up;  

please dance on my behalf.

 

You are in the sun of early April,

Cherryblossom month in foetal glow.

Blow through this shadowbox all rigged in dustsheets;

you are my Hades

and I miss you so.

 

                    -Lily Bax





White




 

White page; you are waiting for
a Tin Drum, or
furies of fury.
A sense of getting even or possibly
War and Peace.
An Anna Karenina,
a sort of homecoming.

 

White page; stenographer of my heart.
All you receive are the drippings of the end of love;
a poor substitute for art.


                                    -Lily Bax


A Love Song to London

Because I am Leaving




 

Black coat on, small bag in hand,

I am looking at the river.

I have lost my moorings.

 

Can someone tell me why I am here

in the blue snow of December?

I think I am testing out a silver thread of endurance.

 

City; heart upon heart.

Fingers grasping at hair tearing scalps stabbing.

Parks full of lovers ending stories.

 

Consolations of familiar reference-

red buses, everything named after sieges.

The weight of history stamping down its sentence over everything.

 

City; like a perfect spy-glass

carries us in a perfect rapture.

 

Have I told you that I am leaving?

 

                                          -Lily Bax

 

 

 

 

 

The Photographer




 

You will find me on the road to Sikandra.
Turn and return
and among the stray tombs to emperors and
deer and rotten gardens
I am here but without eyes and age and purpose.

You will find me on the road to Sikandra
but just a negative or
a freeze-frame of life in a long-ago summer.

You could turn me in high definition through a million pixels
but you have bleached me out and I linger.

Here there is no hurry; no need for shoes or planning,
or making sure you smell nice in the morning.
Twenty thousand days without cigarettes are counting down
in endless
endless waiting.


               -Lily Bax