I remember you my ageless,
unyielding friend...
You come in the night
all dead leaves and limbo
resting between my chest-plate
and spine.
You are the quiet messiah
who turns blood into sap
and frees humanity from reason
by preaching the solemn sermons from the Lowly Book
I know you precede the Rust
of the limbs and of the trunk
as certain as entropy
So, then, I should also know of your leaving,
where I imagine cupped and ***** hands
will part my teeth
pluck and plant them between my ribs
to sprout ivory tangles that capture the starlight,
etched with the names and faces of those that I have loved
rooting me to the earth
in a place without time
in a world without you
Copyright ©2010-2013 Sean Winslow All Rights Reserved