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| photo by Joseph Louw © |
automation fingers
(if only james earl ray had had an ax
and an ox like paul bunyan)
they'd rake in coal gray glow
of 'tween light
you'd want some more of it
and you're sure you have the forfeited parts
the needed parts, even including
all your apathy toward consequence
desires and lonely cruelty
of unwanted company
carve the dying in warm rains...
there must be
a slow ritual church
of awareness somewhere
life is going to go on interdependent
of individual reflection
you stop at the still pool
of once was and suddenly
you're nose blind to your narcissism
nostalgia
it steals into you
eventually falling
into drip line irrigation
thirsty needs weeds
bleed seeds deeds
in and out
your scope rifle peering
meaning nearing when and where
your trigger points are
is your saving something to do or not to do
begs the old stump mirror ring counting
thieves time the cascades
wind and water they place
reverence in repeated cycles
journeys and trees
though as we multiplied
seemingly unchecked
the forests became jealous of cities
and soured to our lack of faith
they made leafless summers
a more regular thing
said in howl and whisper
only ghosts want to appreciate
purity by shade these days
EJR ©
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