feeding my reflections in the rain
feral wind
sharp teeth
dug into a
Winter thin
at Spring's begin
crawling
rooting
nourishing
my sins
as a way in
I find myself listening
to the heavy patter
of the rain
on the window sill
everything in
this noise is warm
stills me, slows me
to an inside where
everything goes
or at least let's me feel
movement being frozen
to what flows
the moments held in this
condensation of my desires
like herbivores
wading grasslands,
and preying on night's
cover blooms
being pulled
by the tides'
two-handed
guiding of them
are thirsty
with a dream
in their eyes
like windows clinging
to water outside
one molecule at a time
knowing it's way back home
wood
iron
brick
and
copper
carve
electrical
passages
each danced
ghost step that
everyone
knows in a
towered
Heaven
fall
root yourself
Edward
in the poem
in the silted mud
in the loam that
time,marsh-reeds
eggs for the high
Sun again
EJR (c)
Beautiful:
ReplyDelete"everything in
this noise is warm"
"the moments held in this
condensation of my desires"