Our children and dead.

I walked the rail

Clearing spider webs

Stepping on

Crusty leaves

Imagining voices

Creaking softly

Or roaring

With the wind

Trees lying bare

Calling out

In raspy notes

 

“Summer is gone

Fall is fled

Soon winter

Will cover

Our children

And dead.

 

Burrows

Acorns

Leaves

And seeds

Will lie beneath

Our barren eaves.

 

A heavy mantel

Of snow

And sleet.

Rime on branches

Will steal

Our heat.

 

 Then at last

Southern winds

Will blow

And our dead

Nourish while

Offspring grow.”

Dreaming

I’ve known a lot of people
Dreaming so many dreams
Under wooden steeples
By swollen streams

There are endless mountains
And Appalachian trails
Crisp springs and fountains
Flowing past iron rails

Lazy days are breaking
Into cold nights, and frost
But this time we’re taking
Won’t be anything lost

I’ve dreamt of places
Far and forgotten
Lost people and races
Leaves stirring in autumn.

Fall in Catawissa

Bursting The Sac

Let’s walk lightly

Upon the shell

Where cracks

Show the yoke

Globular in mass

Pulsating gently

Rippling in waves

Warping the cocoon

-Where slipping-

Cool liquid rushes

Climbing our legs

Wrapping around

Our tired bodies

Covering us with

Silent hands

Enveloping us

Bursting the sac

Leaving us alone

Drifting in a pool

Of muddied ambition

In beauty lost.

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Desert Man.

Desert is a human heart

Where the sun shines

Your flesh cracks apart

Old leather and new wine

 

Rivers deposit their dredge

On a breaking man

We’re living on the edge

Of an alluvial fan

 

I almost taste the water

And feel the breeze

It must be hotter

Here on my knees.

The Long Arc

I walked the shore

Sank in the mud

Along the stream

My footsteps

Threading though

The water.

 

I cast a line

Sweeping past

In a long arc

Down the edge

Until I brought

It back empty.

 

Cold water numbs

My tingling feet

In early spring

When the sky

Is cloudy

And trees bare.