I fragment thee….less a cloud than the rain
the portions we partition ourselves from
remain un-sketched
we are merely grasping the edges of an existence
we struggle to know
but in dreams the murals are painted vast
and there
we are whole
I fragment thee….less a cloud than the rain

Night runs through your veins
Alone with the stars
You cut a path into the heavy damp air
And pull life towards you

Brushing by silences
That whisper truths into your soul
Shadows become other worlds
You dissolve into

Pausing to breath in the night
The smile in your heart
Replenishes the desire to be alone
You exhale another chapter of yourself

Starlight shimmers on your skin
You pierce the solitude of darkness
And move ghostlike
Deeper into yourself

Heartbeats pound in your chest
Leaving the used parts of you behind on the path
Your footsteps become a rhythm
To this song of being alive
With the night

“The salt of unrighteous tears”

We balance our hearts on scales
That are void of a truth within
We cross universes seeking
But the formulas of existence
The one’s that make sense of loving something
Fall in between the spaces
That stretch between heartbeats
We weep tears as salty as our oceans
And pray to ourselves
That flesh and love
Swim together
In that sea that knows
Why….

Loaves
(the last harvest)

Dust and poems
Philosophy and the buzz of grasshoppers
Grease
14mm on the sickle guards
Hawks diving on snakes
Blast furnace winds
Dreading and craving rain
And double pumping to facilitate finding third gear

Old Red and I
A 1972 Dodge C600
Pulled those hills for years
Three hundred bushels a load
I loved her eight cylinders and glass packs
She was a throat-y *****
No AC…No radio
Just combustion, torque and a five speed transmission
Zen and the art of hauling grain

@Twenty eight million five hundred and sixty loaves….