Saturday, March 28, 2020

spring fever

somnolent and sullen I've been
awaiting my elixir
perfectly portioned to numb the limbs of trees
and wings of songbirds
the ancient doorknob falls apart in my hands as I enter
the space between here and there
gold to grain
gathering milkweed and goldenrod from the river's edge
while the world burned
turn down the bed
turn up the volume of Dylan and The Band
sit here with me and watch the shadows become

sit here with me
still and poised upon the hands of every-time
too trite
too right
the breeze off the water wakens

chills the
bones and the wings of songbirds
changing transforming aging
creating still
breathing still
do you smell the smoldering of Spring?
do you hear the rush of the weary?
after the cooling
where will we rest?
amongst the cottonwood and warrens of rabbits and fox
tall grasses dance
and become








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