Over the shoulder
into dawn -
a bruised and battered sky.
Past the fallen
teardrops of honey
so goes the field hands' cry.
Through cedar boughs
melting off entoiling ice -
a freshly minted leave.
In a turning corner,
past their gate
the smokehouse grants reprieve.
Warm smoke trails,
"what's done is done,"
brow's glistening white beads.
Never again,
someday.
Someday
sighs and heaves.
Tag: existential absurdism
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Solstice
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I am Solstice
I am the only thing I’ve ever feared -
the force that moves,
the enemy that doesn’t.
We are Gemini.
No bang, no whimpers
just birthdays
on either edge
of the map.
Take a bath
in a glacier's fresh melt
you'll notice the drowning
kills you last.
Silence
in a moment of peace.
One minute,
one day,
one week,
same sudsy clawfoot.
Not the suffocation
of an airless climb.
Not the starvation
of white pine standing proud,
rooting through brackish cracks.
Not the dehydration
from walking too far
and never enough.
Hey,
let's be friends.
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