Call me

blood shot eyes watch the sun sifting fog in the early morning sky,

cotton candy vortices hold back the pale blue,

stifle the sun,

 

horse hobbles homeward,

hooves on the ground, muzzle on my hand,

warm air, like liquid grass softens the calluses on my paws,

I walk beside her still, she manages to keep up,

imagine myself as strong as her, maybe in some small way; maybe delude myself with a well considered lie instead…

 

sand and pebbles wander under foot in a dry wash,

it seems like squandered youth when it’s empty like that,

your stones would rather swim,

but now they speak to me in tongues unknown,

tell me about time long forgotten and how that moss found it’s root within such a torrent,

I don’t know how anybody could lose their sweater here,

let alone their underwear,

I could make a sail and a raft with these drifting participles,

might find myself wanting venues with less silence; more noise- to drown out those inner demons,

but this is peace, and this the best piece of it I can find,

 

dayheat shimmers in the distance,

gently roiling air lifts the breeze, like a sacrifice to the heavens,

wonder what He smells up there,

rather question whether he even looks down on days such as these,

could be brimstone in the forecast,

but I don’t know nuthin’ bout no Gomorrah,

all I know is what I see and what I’d leave behind to be just a little closer,

so I say a little prayer bearing in mind that I’ve no righteousness to send it with,

but who knows maybe there’s some pinioned vestige within the channels between us,

could be I can borrow some on credit,

Lord knows I could use a little help,

but I’ll leave you with that,

you can leave a message at the tone.

 

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