I’m not spoken anymore
Dried in a bottom of dust
Let my soul sing
With fire sparks tonight
Can’t I get along alone
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.
Forget every song
I’ve written all wrong
Glory and frail,
Perfect and undone
Startling morning sun
My breath: heavy hung
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.
Empty this bucket
Lost in a sea
Between footsteps
Greeting me
And it’s dark
Close my eyes
To forget
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.
I have experienced this before
Toes pointed forward
Tongue tied
Missing little bits I never ever held
Counting down the days
To keep my mind occupied
No deadline approaching
No timeline to meet
Just anxious and mythodic footsteps
Approaching a number
That never mattered
But to my easy mind
Heartbeats and approaching dreams
Close my eyes and realize
An afghan is my sweater, again.
I work up early and there was a sense of calm inside of me
As I stepped outside to relieve myself
I realized the calm may have been coming from
A fresh layer of snow
The first snowfall of the Winter
There’s a beautiful calm
That exists only when large snowflakes are falling in the air
And when everything around
Seems to be muted, simplified
Like it’s all water.
I had my moccasins on making light footsteps in the snow
And as I turned around to go back inside
I faced the village
And saw a lone fox trotting through
On its way somewhere important
Such a delicate creature
Always alarmingly small
Yet incredibly smart
Sneaky.. crafty little buggers.
I made a little movement
And it noticed me standing there and stopped
Cocked it’s head to the side
As if to say: “Hello, what are you looking for?”
I cocked my head to the side and replied:
“I have been looking for you.”
It stayed like this for at least three breaths
Each breath I watched the fox
Through the steam of my breath.
We stood about 50 meters apart
It started slowly walking towards me
I didn’t move, it came to me
I thought to myself,
‘Why don’t you always keep
Some morsels of food to share with animals
In your pocket?’
For now would have been a great time to share
But alas, I could not conjure up the food
Nor could I probably feed this fox
Solitary creatures they are.
It came a few steps closer to me
Listened more intently
Then suddenly turned it’s head to Moon Cow’s teepee
And I looked in that direction too
And there was Moon Cow
Standing outside of his teepee
Just as I was doing
Watching me, watching the fox
And the three of us stood here for a few more breaths
And then the fox trotted off
In the direction it had been going
Before we had said hello.
Blues are blues
The loneliest blues
That cover the ground
And seep through trees.
From morning to night
Lost all delight
Everything small
Blues are so blue.
Soft is each drip
Delicate footsteps
Mind rewinds
And time deeply sighs.
How does a day slip away?
How does time float on by?
Left alone wondering why
On my mind on my mind.
Footsteps echo loudly
Walking down a dotted line,
Catch a moon and hold it high;
Forever wild at heart and free.
Darkness is pure daylight;
Speakers louder then heartbeat.
Walk into a no return lane,
Find a door that marks your name.
Slip sideways with a fuzzy dream
And carry those loose blossoms
That follow your footsteps
With a delicate clutch,
Simply to answer questions
From far away strangers
With elegant movement,
Shared back in a gaze.
She stopped to look at me;
Of course I noticed,
It’s what’s come and saved me;
In the garden that we’ve planted,
In the life that we’ve harvested.
So long nights are star-lit,
Wisdom is a campfire,
Pride is found in a solid axe
And love is what reminds me…
Just like a well worn pair of leggings.
You’re there every night!
Roosters wake me at the break of dawn.
I smell well worn leather
And anticipate your footsteps
Coming to say good morning every morning.
Winter swept away my eyes,
Blinded while in memory
That lay half spent from truth,
Half lost on an innocent blue eyes
That woke with no name.
I walked backwards to confirm my footsteps –
Innocents of a broken heart.
For too many, my dear love,
Have fallen unwatched upon this cold ground.
Share this memory with my awaiting cold winter steps.
I tempted my fate,
Believing in my firm footsteps
That wiggled and diggled
And figgled and biggled.
To where was my answer,
To whom was an impulse.
To lie by my lover,
To step foot in her hearth
That lay idle; upon
Yet so astray.
For merry was my wish
To Blondy and her fish,
Merry was an inheritance
That clothed itself in
100 year old furs
And danced around with glitter
To the steady beat
Of my leather soles
As I walked on further
Towards my fate
And an undying appreciation
Of the biggleding and figgleding.
Glaciers awoke my surrender.
I am not a window shopper,
A figureless void of deadly consistence
That scrapes along the expanse
Of doubly criss-crossed salt scapes;
Littered emptiness.
Vast emptiness
Crawling up the back of my spine,
Lightly dusted with ten days rolling.
This is the heartbeat.
The beat.
The heartbeat, beating.
Surrender in a tight grip.
Moments before forbidden flavor
Hits the freshness of thy tongue.
Laughter in childern.
Sounds of awoken footsteps,
And I am not crawling.