From whence love comes;
so to ventures
the soul-
a vessel left
caverned
and wilting.
Hollow wisps
dancing in
drifting husks-
enriching soils
upon which
they fall.
Hooves pattering
to impress
the fauna that begs growth.
Packed earth.
The nudest berth
for which it burgeons;
a bed
to rest
our heads.
And watch
it all rise
around and about
us.
This is about as close to a love poem as I can get. I posted this one first because a poet friend told me it’s better than the next one I’m going to post. I disagree but - I’m also impressionable.