I look for you in everything
With or without wine
I can see pointed toes
Within black socks
Pulled up to the middle of your calf
And black hair
That I’ve never been able
To reach out and touch.
No heartbeat says maybe
More than your eyes
Working chopsticks
Can reach into mine,
Yet laughter didn’t mean
What I had hoped
As I sat up late
Mixing fables
With my loneliness.
So twist away,
Reach out with flexed fingertips
Where I don’t belong,
And allow me to linger here
To sort out my other side
And remember
The smile that set me free.
Tag: calf
Moon at Midnight – Part XXXXXXV (day 2039)
For three days Willow and I sat
Meditating upon life
Watching the great herd of Elk
Graze the valley below
Laughing as we saw Elk calves
Running to suckle their mothers
And other Elk turning away curious calves
Who weren’t their own to feed
We felt their powerful teeth
Ripping out grass
And then chewing with their rolling jaws
Seemingly no other care in the world
We felt their combined
Powerful hooves rattle the earth
As they slowly came and then went
In their great migration North
Now that the winter ice shields
Were rapidly melting in the spring thaw
We felt their consistent calls
For whom did they send
And from where did the return come from
We could only guess the meanings
But warm breaths
Meeting the cold spring air
Continually sent steam spouts
Up from their great masses
We could smell them
The very essence that they were
In wild and natural pungency
That can mean so many things to the alert
And told us the story of their hardships
They had faced the previous winter
We saw their curiosity
With everything that they passed
Wondering if it was food
Or if it was predator
And if it was at all safe to be here
When they wandered close enough to us
The closest to us would jump back and be alerted
And the others beside it
Would also jump
And scuttle back towards the bulk of the herd
Many would get so close
That we could hear their powerful nostrils
Testing the air for security.
After the third day
We decided that we would take one home with us
So I sent an arrow through the heart
Of a male, ensuring the mother would be able to provide
For the calf until it was able to be on its own
As I dressed the Elk
Willow sent thanks to the Elk gods
For their offering
By evening we had made it out of the valley
And were set up camp by a small stream
Where we washed ourselves
And watched the stars.
Rolled On (day 1303)
I screamed from head to feet
With dragging dreams
Slipping down the lonesome path
Of all I’ve ever wanted.
And from here a whisper started,
Like a row of columns
Three hundred feet tall;
Built by the hands of iron giants
Who spoke only in grunts.
My itchy trigger finger
Gargled a strong glass of salt water,
And spit truth onto dry solid ground
That crackled underneath the weight of my
Soft leather soles, wrapping their
Loose ends half way up my calf.
Thankfully I knew how to walk,
I knew that all good things
Come at the end of the row,
So I buttoned up my callused shell
And I rolled on.
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In Faith We Often Wander (day 9)
As autumn turns white as pearls
I’ve never let you go
As leaves have long since fallen
There’s never been inward fog
As ices water our fields
Birth it neighs with life
Wobbly knees and scared eyes
There’s never been overwhelming rains
As the rains have been scared by gold
Navy blues, purples, and burgundies
Watching the bee lazily wander
No searing burns have ever fazed
As sprouts begin to curl
What was calf is now a cow
Vibrant greens have all turned yellow
Yet still no weathering of my soul