Friday, July 30, 2010

Sound-side

This home place
gliding gulls
dropping clams rocks
familiar crack
shells opening
my shell breaking
likewise

This great sadness
about time
that is lost
already, she'll view me
with disbelief,
much the way that
I fathom her
grandmother spirit
I'm caught
midway
thus

Those marauders
costumed
as believers
once bled life away
stupidly
I ignored words
widening lesions

We love
all wild confusion
that family
muses through
blessed
the whole mess
a gift

Ignorance often
blissful
like a breeze or
a whisper
my heart
a child
who needs
wisps of hair
lovingly brushed
from eyes
drying tears

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