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| basking under a gnome moon |
alive
lusting hustling May
powdered grain tides
silt and souls wade rain
this valley has been writing
carve of life tomes
for a very long time
oceans and eons of chance and turn
through ghosts and sharply
implemented humanity
this valley strives
for its fleeting
often misty
low cloud captured
semblance of permanence
jesters
are opportunistic
weed pattern chaos weather brings
seasons within each sacrifice
time, ritually triggered for instance
heather highland seed banking
where dreams come and go
as souls seeking a cage of bones
trawling the traffic
driving home cut sun
hem diving treasures
on wax marsh rooftops
and at pit stops dotted
along the lay lines
and furious migrations
of birds
pulled mass
magnetic pulse
frontal barrier
solid light
phenomenon
not a shooting star
or Promethean trickery
with as many fingers as thoughts
I have bought into
what has always been known
to loan its pollen serenity during
sumptuous high Spring evenings
when the Moon is racing full
of faces midnight sought
roan swelling taught prayers,
meditations and keeping my attempting
my peculiar practicing of what I call yoga
my drunken kata paralyzations
and I radiating
slightly demented
in bent refracted light
divine inspiration is
sometimes
a struck feathered need
an instinct hollow pointed
the bleed of poems
behind closed doors
while leaving
the windows opens
I choose anti-social
clung to these dawns
and twilight(s) wanting
young limbs again
so I too can race toward
maternal eyed eternities
climbing skies through this valley's trees
EJR ©
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