-
the strain of hogweeds
clung to hillsides like
-
roots and limbs born out again
as skyward green
-
the puppet primps and preens, convinced
a self exists which animates the limbs,
-
-
from the moment i looked up and saw
just over my head your memory
-
will your long slender roots
reach down and tickle my
-
Joy came
whispering through autumn oaks
-
We are small yellow suns
suspended together in space
-
like morning rays on cloudscapes scattered far,
igniting new horizons to vibrant shades of faith.
-
her silhouette flickered about but seen
from the farthest corners of vision
-
-
i did not even come to conquer / the death still pits of my fears
though i stood at the precipice / and pondered their hollow depths
-
Beneath a canopy of pines, madrones, and oaks
his footsteps crunch on fallen shades of brown.
-
It was the fullness of bansuri strains
echoed back from distant points and coves
-
A soft wind fans the cedars' scent
across your plots of earth;
-
-
How is it I feel the slight wind even now,
almost breathing on my thoughts, and
-
Water wimples yellow setting light;
fir trees play a subtle evening wind;
-
-
Nostalgia is but a hollow wind,
and I a new-grown wood.
-
-
-
from the silhouettes of oaks madrones and pines
the call of an owl thins out into the dark
-
every fiber bound to life
linking bone to skin be still
-
-
A long strained moan struggles from the gloom
-
-
sepia leaves and branches shade the supple parchment of your years
-
Amid the ghostlike skeletons of oaks,
a lone song lifts from a channel brown with grass
-
From molten ores to flashing thunderheads
to fields of glowing gasses joined with dust,
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