Tuesday, October 7, 2014


An impossibly clear day 
Out of PDX
The black green growth
Cresting and falling below
Covers and softens 
A small lie floating
In the remnants of memory
Spinning in urgent currents
Of vast truths
The logged forest
Quilt patches 
Prickly as a shaved vulva
Stark and uncovered
Build the home where 
We live
Through a small portal
Darkly the land 
Swells by in
The bright sunshine.
The ancient craters,
Their peaks 
Flags of white

Let us pass.

No comments:

Post a Comment

I appreciate your response: