When my father-in-law passed
He said it’s freeing in a sense
I found the black and yellow
Feathers on the ground
And at that moment I knew
I was connected by the invisible
Threads of all of time and space
All the minds electricities of
Every sentient being past present and future
It was calm like the gather of
Bees collecting pollen when the garden is purple
That was years ago
I squint my eyes watching the road out the window
Where did that content go
The content of the unknown
Always her hand on my elbow as
She leans on her staff
Humming the drone of
Infant days on my mother’s chest
With her heartbeat and her ribs
And the smell of a summer rose
It’s kinky
Exciting
Missing a piece of the puzzle
Taken up by the vacuum off the carpet under the table
I want your face near my hands
My nose only minute distance from your changing beard
Its black today with a crisp line near your throat
Our skin soft and wet
Like the lumbar curve under the
Horse’s saddle, sweaty after a
Long ride through the woods and
Among the cattle with their young
Freeing in a sense
A release from the real world
Always I’ll come back to that
Through the spaces between
The fence rows
No comments:
Post a Comment