Coins and Honey

Seduced by the scandal of wind and winter clouds,
I stand in the doorway.

What was to have burned is now burning.

What should have been learned is now turning.

The present is where the past returns as despair.

Ziggy said we could blame the stupid beauty of flowers.

Or we could punctuate the noise of the world with pause.

We could implicate the reader,
        give them agency to refute these words.

We could bring back Sin-Eaters,
        give them coins and honey to expiate our acts.

Let me activate the places of my fears, and by naming,
        tame them:

        Black Dragon Canyon      Tangail         Ghost Rock        Rajshahi         Lone Tree        Mymensingh         Salt Wash        Rangpur         Panquitch Kanab       Barisal

Doorways spell both beginning and end,
        opening to light,
        letting in the dark.