March 7, 2021

where we will end

the patterns in your ceiling texture wake me
with tales of the coming morning light

the air is still
but we are elevated
cloud-like over the world

all that is before us
and all that is behind
suspends us here
high above the fall

and every step is forward
leading away from ancient evils

we will take five stones
one for each of my hands
one for each color you see
the best of all that was

we will hold them carefully
where your heart ends
and mine begins
until the time is right
when we’ll release them
knowing gravity will do its work

only forward
only away

falling will be their freedom
but if our intentions were pure
they will soar
and they will be more
than we could have planned

you and i
we have no plan
only each other
and the few days that remain

so walk the rope with me
enter the dream
around the edges
where the water is free
into the questions
of what should be

glide the postcard
perfect scenery
across the diner table
with that smile
you save for the open fields

hum a tune
from the old boys
we’ll pay with Cash
in the middle of June
when the heat
sticks us to the seat

spin me around
without fear or regret
tell the world
i’m your man
even when they reject me
for slander over truth

and when all else fails
kneel with me
in the garden’s morning moments
reach into the earth
feel its life on your skin
remember where we began
know where we will end


Previous post
emptiness, the good kind the shallow indentation, on the pillow opposite mine, holds its position, like a clue to our mystery
Next post
waiting the chandelier waits