I am no buck--for before I was big enough
I was torn apart by icy teeth,
a hoof remained.
I was hay, once,
back when I had things to grow,
but such ideas are fleeting and far off.
The thunder I am not rolls out as weakly
uttered words of no recourse.
All this denial
toes curled under,
circling fingernails...
Love leaves either lost or found--
the cracked glass of paper lens
shows pieces of the desert
past, but not the full scope
of light and water.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
you've always done dark/light and water well together.
Thanks for the comment...
I always try to keep things to their relative elements. The flow between these three images is captivating, encompassing the entire energy of the tides, times, and other general foundations. It's just something that always feels appropriately big so I like using it in this way...drookian indeed
Post a Comment