Grazing bright On beaten hiking paths by
This incompetent mountain on Moon-night,
Maybe It Is a large hill?
I tread and look down,
Except to glimpse at the moon; Nurturing,
Innately wrapping me up,
Luna-Love.
A swelling, choked-up in my chest;
Hard lumps of e-motion to
Swallow....
(I know I know)
There's consciousness beyond eternal wrest
Of this body:
Twitchy
Susceptible, At times
Bleeding, At times
Sore.
And consciousness beyond decay
In coffins and urns,
Decays whose traces have
Never resolved...
Just glimpses in the camouflage,
Invisible to society...
In pictures tacked to boards in stores,
"Missing".