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mike-essigPoems
Three A.M. Standing on my deck. No sleep. Something calls. Still and frigid, waiting quietly, I breathe in and out. My breath rises in misty, white mortal plumes. Inspiration; expiration. Beyond my cabin, I feel the deer dancing in the deep night, chanting the old secret songs of their antlered clan. Exaltation. I watch meteors drop on the ridge top like God's tears streaking the sky. Clarity. Two coyotes howl a duet in the darkness; the creek whispers and I understand. Revelation. I think of your flesh warm beneath a thick quilt. Expectation. So many marvels attend me. Surely I am a lucky man. - mce
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Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Lucky Mike
Three A.M. Standing on my deck. No sleep. Something calls. Still and frigid, waiting quietly, I breathe in and out. My breath rises in misty, white mortal plumes. Inspiration; expiration. Beyond my cabin, I feel the deer dancing in the deep night, chanting the old secret songs of their antlered clan. Exaltation. I watch meteors drop on the ridge top like God's tears streaking the sky. Clarity. Two coyotes howl a duet in the darkness; the creek whispers and I understand. Revelation. I think of your flesh warm beneath a thick quilt. Expectation. So many marvels attend me. Surely I am a lucky man. - mce
Another poem written in my tiny, remote Tennessee shack.What a beautiful place it was.
#luck#totality
mike-essig
Written by
mike-essig
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
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