wind wears me down
I erode in the brisk flow
of time’s unbridled breath
no joy to serve as baffle
in the raging waters
what I know of purpose
is what I’ve etched
into the stone of my flesh
scars upon my throat
testify to possibility and luck
on this path the aging hut
that marks the first mile
deprecates into memory
the stag no longer makes
his way here - so long it’s been
since his dark saintly eyes
have fallen upon me
oh these bones ponder
shadows that have drained into darkness
thoughts slip in and out
like field mice seeking respite
from a winter of inexistence
the young people who drank light
from wine flutes
who paired and unpaired themselves
did not see brilliance bleeding from them
like rust onto brick, blood & time both red
so easy to falter
when sounds compete it is
the horns of avarice that are heard
above the good heart’s herald
oblivious, all, to the arriving wind
come to take them
to take me
down
I erode in the brisk flow
of time’s unbridled breath
no joy to serve as baffle
in the raging waters
what I know of purpose
is what I’ve etched
into the stone of my flesh
scars upon my throat
testify to possibility and luck
on this path the aging hut
that marks the first mile
deprecates into memory
the stag no longer makes
his way here - so long it’s been
since his dark saintly eyes
have fallen upon me
oh these bones ponder
shadows that have drained into darkness
thoughts slip in and out
like field mice seeking respite
from a winter of inexistence
the young people who drank light
from wine flutes
who paired and unpaired themselves
did not see brilliance bleeding from them
like rust onto brick, blood & time both red
so easy to falter
when sounds compete it is
the horns of avarice that are heard
above the good heart’s herald
oblivious, all, to the arriving wind
come to take them
to take me
down
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