The Songs

I spent one summer
at the piano,
in the dark -
only a single slant of light could ever get in
through that low window,
leaning yellow dust motes. 

I watered the keys, dripping my sad heart
through my fingers
and grew plants from the shadow lines -
a black and white garden;
minor enchantments
in a basement room.

And then I fainted.

I am the leaves
That first need the sun -

Feet in the soil,
Face to the sky
To entwine the songs 
Of daisies and thorns.

C. LJ Ireton 2024

Sunlight

I am silver
and slowing under my own silence.
Curses run so cold
under blood,
To the soul 
and they hate sunlight -
It's why shame burns.

I was always drawn to the ice 
never daunted by the sea-cold.
I can not take your warm hand,
Rose, 
your conscience is a gold 
reminder of my mistakes -
Black cloud stains everything
I touch.

And this one pain
we are not sharing.

I am silver,
And slowing. 
You should know and you would hate it -
loving me like the sun
I shy away from.  

(Inspired by Burning Crowns)
LJ Ireton c. 2024

The blackbirds

The rain slants again

Over the field - 

a fast and scattered drop.

The blackbirds are ready;

they chase each pattered place 

and hop, hop for the worms -

black downturned faces dotted

on pale green mounds.

I was frowning at the sky 

when I prayed for dry ground

this morning.

I did not think of them -

Waiting for water,

Watchful, yellow-rimmed eyes

Looking in the same direction 

As mine,

Wings tucked in. 

C. LJ Ireton 2024

In the clearing

The forest was swollen with water. 
Branches stirred swamped bases
And moorhens made homes in brown bramble
Puddles surrounded with mud.
But I didn't expect the sky to fall,
To lie in the clearing
And see clouds drift across the floor -
Suddenly so close me.

C. LJ Ireton 2024

The journeys

Standing still by the glass

I run through a thousand nightmares

And on the floor

I stretch as far as the stars,

then race back down to tell you about them.

I traverse distances that do or don't exist

In a few silent breaths

And some of them are beautiful, 

when I am not scared.  

I journey

Mad or wanted -

By going nowhere. 

C. LJ Ireton 2024

April Showers

Four months in
And more of the same,
Silt white rain runs
Like frustration 
On cheeks.

Sullen at the sky,
I still open the window -
In low whistles and water hit consonants 
The Earth is recounting its day
And wants to know
Who's listening. 

C. LJ Ireton 2024 

The Three of Us

It was two o'clock in the afternoon.
We'd been out in the sun,
but I moved into the room,  
saying nothing.

I lay down and they followed,
flopped on carpets and sheets -
the three of us feline,
asleep in the light
and shadows
of silence. 

C. LJ Ireton 2024

The First Springtime Swim (ii)

It wasn't the equinox, 
the clocks, the dew on the grass
instead of the frost -

But the ache of my arms
in still water, my spirit yawning 

with my bones submerged

And curving -

That woke me, let me feel again,

under the lightening sky. 

C. LJ Ireton 2024

Dark earth

I released twilight wildflower seeds,
tiny, tiny, white,  
speckled
into the blackest brown soil,
damp and winter-devoid of life.

My hands were dark earth
from the stirring as I sat back
on my heels. The seeds were not yet
broken -
And they had become the night sky.

C. LJ Ireton 2024