I trace the lines of your timbered soul
That echo through the wilderness...
Morning dew thickens -
mirrored against fresh water...
The earth bellows in pain
Boulders, dust, rock, billowing upwards...
Sky is grey, and nothing is true
But you don't worry I'm with you...
A stream forever
crosses enclosed by the two...
We failed our mother as a child
Forgot her heart is warm and mild...
Death by rains.
No exclamation...
It was
a killing line...
In a haunting trove -;
there was a synthetic insanity...
Intoxicated in flutter
while dancing with winds...
Midnight Crows...
A dandelion was yielding to its yawn
on the fluffy mattress of sunshine...