She spies the ants in bewilderment
A linear and meandering path
Undulating like a wave on a flat ocean
They are deliberate and sure

The ant spies the girl with indifference
Her path is unknown and random
Undulating in and out of reality
Her scars are deliberate and self-inflicted

The woman spies the man
His path is like the girl and the ant
Undulating like a *** of boiling water
The wounds he exacts are deep and copious

I have trodden many a creature under foot
A few, unbeknownst
The bug has an intolerably short life span
And shorter yet, under foot
Do I traipse out of spite or cruel wonder?
No, it is just my disregard and shortsightedness
For I have been trampled upon,
From creatures smaller than me
They stir upon me, feelings of a bug
A distant rumbling of thunder
As I count the seconds after seeing the flash
There is a heavy weight upon me
Imagine what is stirred in a bug

On a meandering road, many years ago
Our destination unknown
We came upon an ancient and majestic oak
Its branches, bare of clothing;
Autumn’s demand of an offering to the soil
We stopped and did not venture forward
Observing only from a distance
Knowing that if we walked among its greatness
We would not see the fullness of its truth
You sketched it
I sat in awe of it
Years have passed and she is but a memory
The tree no longer stands except for the lifeless remnant,
And your sketch
A cruel beheading
I live knowing that it's greatness,
Rooted below the earth
Is a soul larger in death than in life

Your silken skin, trembling to the touch
A scent of sandalwood, wafts as it soars
Your pant, accentual-syllabic verse
Beats ever faster, no ration of time

Awkward moments as two become one
An everlasting symphony of fire
Quenched, after the crescendo of the night
Descending from a dream all in my mind

I sit at my desk with unremarkable posture
Crooked back, crouched forward
Hands, shaped like lobster claws
Ready to pounce on the invisible prey
However, my quarry is a thought, not yet set to reveal itself
Scrambled thoughts of memories ferment
Oozing out and dropping to the floor
Trampled on
A phrase or two lifts and permeates through my fingers
A loud click of the keyboard, followed by another
A symphony of automatic gunfire
This is a war zone
A killing field
Then silence
Coffee at nine
Internet browsing for the rest of the morning

Pugnacious mind of mine
Seeks an end to this winter fog
Your ramblings, on and on
I close the shutters, for spring is not in sight

Pig manure emasculates the air
Not a farm in sight
Your ramblings, on and on
I find solace in the bedroom closet

I hear the car door slam
The front door slam
Your ramblings, on and on
I chamber the round then nothing but stars

Eyes closed to a fading light
The last beat of a tired heart
Muffled voices, a murmured prayer
A pathway unresolved
What lies ahead?
Endless slumber?
A new beginning?
Not knowing is what I fear.