It was much more than
wind, it was as if
your spoken verse
pushed me

it was early
just before
the radiance revealed
cloaked mist lands
wet in dew

reading what
I received in slumber
you broke the silence
in the effort to mend
the loose stitches

but there is nothing...
the life rushed out
leaving not a simple drop
stitching would not change
what I lost

so I converse in the act
of silence
hoping that maybe
your tailwind
that pushed me
would die

A fortnight
Will be our measure
For those who seek
An idea of independence
Beyond these chambers
Of steel and stone
Lies of beggars
Weeping urchins
And slept scent ******
Cheer on those judged by gavel
They are roped to truths
That they forswears

A fortnight
After this night
We will be our measure
Will it be justice to, whom
Society?, ‘tis not justified
Judgments of weak eyes and mind
They keep them like stones
In their shoes
Weighing them down
With hate, greed and sins of old

Before we squander
Away a chance
and before this
fortnight will reach
a certain ******
we will fill our eyes
with independence

Watching through the pane
Your hands as cuffs
As you unveil the earth
Tending what you sow
The Night Before last
Under the blood moon
It was that night
Where we spoke and
Planted seeds of old ideals
We would be as the land
Nurturing one another
As we both worked
To bring callused hands
Gripping the fruits
Of our labor
To our humble
Farm house table
These days would be long
Out in ribbons of gold
And slight scent of country roses
Would be our remuneration
These are our seeds
That we both planted
That we will water
That we will grow
Soon my love
As they are ready
We will pick each
Dream and live

Walking alone
Spied by stubborn boys
With big green eyes
Stopping to see
His Birch wood hair

Walking alone
During the day of
Communion cups
And blood dripping
Dripping down
From his thorn crown

Walking empty
Through the rock stares
Thrown his way

Walking on the path
Lined with cedars
Limping to the judgments
Folks bring to the
Evening table

I am walking
With sins and tin cups
And a ******* dog

Black berry bushes
Wagon wheel fields
And a paint chipped house
Is where you
Spent your younger years

Fragrant straw
And fresh dew
Filled your mornings

Clinking mason jars
Were the bells
That rang in the,
full breath of summer

sprinkle of soil
on your cheek
bare feet
and a dog
named Cash

if I was there
if we met then
this is how I see you
and how I would fall
in love

She laid beneath
a canopy of silk
her hands still with elegance
and body clamped with corset
eyes barely reflecting
the detail in the Morris wallpaper
She was entangled in emptiness
the pitter patter of drops
echoed the feeling in the room
it surrounded her summer body
even though the air was winter
as he stared
his eyes reflected back
a story of summer
rejecting laying with winter
as the cold prevails
in a lustful rigid strength  
she is now a statue captured
in this moment
frozen
he remembered thinking
“How beautiful”

I sometimes forget or regret
Not knowing you
Your roots run deep
As does mine
But your shaded limbs
Stole my light
Pilfered my water
You were a rotted tree
Plagued with fungus
that grew into your mind
infecting the heartwood
it poured out through your limbs
spilling into the air
choking the saplings
as we fought for light

it was only then
when you were cut
removed from grounded roots
that we could feel the
warmth of the sun
that fueled our growth