Tuesday, November 19, 2013

midnight o two of the beaver moon








rich violet
moon-sky 
light
take me into this burled morning
riding upon a white horse to the songs of cowboys and circling planets 
wool blankets cushion the fall to evermore and silent rivers of western longing 
sing to me of passages and the risk of knowing 
sing to me of secrets buried in pink quartz to the forgotten lullabies
whispered in languages only known to lovers
stars have no concept of ego
or shadows  ...


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