The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Unspoken Narration

He orates an epic migration
resounding throughout the hall
of hurricane-spawning automata
marching the yellow-chiseled road
His mouth full of myriad wings
opens like a great dam aperture 
unleashing a lepidopteric murmuration

Flapping their silken shoelace sails
across the undulations of the Rio Grande 
their thousand mile wavelength strums
the seasons into a lifetime of adventure
broods circling the ages with their
syncopation baptising us all in the
glitter of a higher azimuth

The echo of their forest exultation
lifts each metamorphic heart 
upon the generational thermocline 
where they soar over predation's leap
with lantern eyes moist with the
nectar-sweet dew of Spring trumpeting

We who walk a hundred paces slower
or more as our minds eddy in distractions
hardly grasp their hummingbird breathwork
captured between four-ply crystal castanets
beating their iridescent mosaics amid the 
blotted pools of spent gullywashers

Our deathbed remembrances lie fractured
as six-week-weary wings land like dragon scales
to rest but a moment before the great 
confluence commences in sexual scintillation
single-minded delights of firefly magic

Electric clouds condense into a gentle rain
of opals deposited under verdant furl
tiny silverskin onions hidden from the hunt
by the last arch of an orange dalmatian 
matron leaving her necklace upon a borrowed armoire

The day is done
Night looms his protective cloak
Tales never to be told but soon to awaken.
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