Somewhere above this shivering land there’s a cloud waiting
For your weather beaten head.
An enclosure covered with steam and more fitting your station;
To idle in as you refuel your life.
Where ideas of temporary location are lost in the vastness of
Ocean drawn mist and its kisses.
Where the sagacities of facts are left behind and a shattered
Mind is welcome to wander.
Stripped of material pities and petty commitments, and steeped
In a fresh crust of citrus.
A place to unlace the material of your skin stretched features
And mingle with the ancient.
Soaking up the life blood of neighborhoods further afield than
Three blocks away, and unpaved,
And sacred in its make-up: seminal in element and eternal in
Furnishing coal for the soul.
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Where the sagacities of facts are left behind and a shattered
ReplyDeleteMind is welcome to wander.
A place to unlace the material of your skin stretched features
And mingle with the ancient. I just want to copy the whole damn thing. Excellent last line...I feel like that weather beaten head. excellent last line. I just need to touch that coal with a spark of fire
Thanks Jim, I liked this one, even re-worked it when it was barely a day old.
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