You sit in a line, I see you
Each with a different hair style,
unkempt, yet perfectly thought out

You weep raw wounded tears
For me, for yourself, for your beloveds
Like a piqued adult, I sense your worry
The worry that you are not crying well-enough,
puffy-enough, make-up-smeared-enough

But it is raw, enough
It is from a newly formed depth,
a mark that will leave a mark, which
will leave a mark, maybe

And you will sing from it
You will dance from it
You will use it as both sword
and shield for the rest of your
life, maybe

But it is raw and it stings
and it wails, oh god does it
wail and scratch and burn

But I see you,
In a line, with your
hair unkempt,
holding each other close

It is morning. I glance up at the sky
I nod to her, acknowledging that she
knows the weather better than I

Our duels are unforgiving
She is graceful in her delivery
And I am left shoveling up the remains

Her coldness no match for my warmth,
my skilled hand. I create a path, boots
Weighted against the latticed snow

I remind her that though she has
a power to wield, I have my own

Perseverance.

Driving to you means
Deep, dark, dirt backroads
That smell like a late night
Bonfire party

The smell clinging to my hair

A lone party goer wearing his mask, losing his way

Driving to you means
Still, white, holy churches built
Before we claimed freedom

Houses standing perfectly

With eyes ablaze

Driving to you means
Letting the music quiet

And arriving

Home.

//how raw the wound aches //

                                                      //  i see you in the sunlight //

// wrapped in our used sheet //

what swallowing silence
a warm cup holds

in a space, a time and place
beyond reaching, beyond
satisfaction

handle your place gently

invite your containment

to sit

How still you sat//your face toward the sun//your belly exposed

Feline intuition//dipping into the cool water// but step you will not

Monks feed your fine belly//your lustrous coat

Water sings//with the breath of the trees//sensing bliss

The grey fox barks
every evening, echoing
the perimeter of its
territory.

The red fox cozies up
next to the brook house
making a friend with the
inhabitant inside.

The black bear sits
its frumpy *** on the
porch of a new homestead.

The trees bend towards the
Earth. Reminding each creature
of its transient position.