Cracks (day 893)

There I was with a paddle in my hand
In the middle of the city
Lookin’ for my river
Heat radiating off the dusty path
Cracks running East to West
And a nickle and dime store
Spinning hot air around
Dropping beads of sweat off exposed refreshments

Ghosts were speaking to me
Sitting there on the boardwalk
On old wooden stools
Grass tooth-pics jutting out
From unshaven scruff filled chins
The lot of them
And me with my paddle

I just stared at them
Ignoring the patient sun
Grumbling away as if mid-day hadn’t already come
I couldn’t tell
Dazed as I was
Had it already come?
I checked my six shooter
And slowly turned North
Towards the fresh BBQ smell
And the slow sweeper
Minding the cracks in the boardwalk
Lookin’ for my river

Battered Soul (day 427)

I’ve battered my soul upon the rocky shores of innocence
Sun bleached reconciliation laid to waste
Heart spilling it’s spoils upon the rocks
And the mighty waves relentless damage breaking bones

There is peace then in time
That rolls along deeply like the rhythmic paddle
Striping through the disturbed sea
In song, everlasting

Pining sailors lost far our in the sea
Stranded on lonely islands with lots of life
Wiled beyond the bayou to the open seas
By the naked goddess swimming

Then, in moments of clarity
The seasons turn to spring
The hand is then set free
And all of the sorcerers relax their hand of power