the
Autumn rain reaches into me
the
patter forest symphony
is
everywhere
even
on the very ends
of
my outstretched fingers
lacing
to the wind
the
pooled splashes
the
sounds that mimic
the
crashes of waves
at
the seashore
are
all broken down
parts
of my crown
I
look for smooth sea glass
to
jewel each moment
as
the trees have begun
to
bleed and deliver
a
velvet cymbal percussion
of
gravity discussing
the
thirst of Winter waiting
like
an open womb
the
ground is all wanting Demeter
with
Her arms full of wheat
nodding
for Her smile and cries
and
the rest
of
Her exhales
to
billow notes
into
a map
so
I know why
I
came this way
to
the point of a blade-cut lost
in
the sharp angled beaks
in
the music
in
the singing
in
the great wheel
turning
again
it
is as if
I
never started
or
never ended
outside
the rain
it
is as if
the
wombs I seek
are
every fall
along
the wall
it
is as if
they
are sugar
in
the rise
of
salt
and
preservation
it
is as if
they
are my stored embrace
that
goes beyond reason
and
looks away from a place
to
curl my intentions
like
the ends of a maple leaf
I
lay down like palm fronds
at
the feet of tidal clock messiahs
coming
home to coronations
and
open mouth the sky
and
hand my heartbeat
to
a lantern
and
turn toward home again
toward
a fire in the hearth
and
the kettle hiss waiting
for
more chapters in my story
to
unfurl each tell tale desire
of
comfort and release
EJR
©
Oh, bravo my friend.
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