Sinew and Song

Molten petals sweep
Into night.

And awaiting awaking,
I breathe,

For I am the mastodon.
I am the birdshout.

I am the night
He awakes.

 

 

Photo by Tom Barrett on Unsplash

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10-16-2017: Day Break

Wood pulp,

Dried and bleached by sleep,

Laid and stacked,

White for writing,

Dropped from a height

To flutter,

To flap,

To clatter upon concrete,

Where a ruckus wind

Spooks them again

To flight—

Such are the thoughts

Of this broken daybreak.