driving the morning road unzipping the day from darkness with a car full of girls and the feint whisper of dreams like breath on the windows as the sun rises desolate over blackened mountains through smoke heavy mist across lakes illuminating the burnt edges of the world after fire. sleep has given way to chatter…
of course they would come holding bits of night in dark shadows under white wings that whisper low along the road sighing across the rooftops. they will find the moon before it sets. beyond the hilled horizon where it has already plunged orange and silent behind the trees, they will find the moon beyond these…
it was raven who stirred the sky this morning arcing dark wings in a far away sky as i walked up the hill tasting the road with my feet.
it is hard to see the darkness of these days, morning sun bright shadowed on heather and grass thick dewed. it is hard to see. . it is hard to remember who spewed what hate at which fractured piece of humanity – who threatened divided ate power made of discord. it is a dark shore…