hazy daze drifting through
a forest filled with mists
a shrouded day of
memory's ghosts & steel
careless wraithing
a bone wight shamble
given to the otherside
casting about for home
dewdrops on the pale
naked for the grey
a rumble within shadow
stalking unseen
i swear
i always intend
to get out more
meet new friends
do new things
but—
peopling terrifies me now
when every word or action
is a litmus test to
determine tribal
affiliation
it seems more sensible
to stay at home
and not subject myself
to the world’s
casual judgment
a murder outside and
a drive-by suicide
laughing, what a joke
waiting for red fox
waiting for red show
chewing on that razor wire
where did you think
you might go?
i stone eye see
wondering at
the fuss of things made
while even more words
make timberfall from
scythed crescent to
sunset canyon walls
no more false assurances
no more casting out lines
this tightrope is far too thin
but this tightrope is mine
step once a million rivers
passing over and by—
careless memory
carry me to night
longing catnap spells
both eyes draw heavy
sunlight warms
my aged face
even dead things have their wild—
campfires hold no sway over their
bone whispers shrouded in mists
should you shadowwalk with me
we will slender through feral spaces
to find our the names and faces
we wore before we were born,
or we may lose our myriad selves
in the fog
Disclosure: My use of those tools most often associated with divination are largely as randomized writing prompts, often with the intent of personal alchemy. They are not intended to be representative of traditional divinatory practice. My personal interpretations (and methods) will likely not agree with those found in popular culture.
she is twin crests
her rivers run free
that is all we
need know
she is the green
her cleft draws in
into the womb
under cairn
stone is all that matters
all words just
nattering on like
whispers on wind
she is wellspring
that is all
we need know
shocked at the shock
whenever i make the claim
that forgetting might
actually be a desirable thing
or when i claim
to be forgotten might
be much the same
what is memory anyway?
ephemeral and fleeting
like a cloudburst in july
or that first vagrant snowflake
on a chill october day
maltrusting and skirting
penumbral lines blurred
against falling rain
cutting lacuna coils
into the night
oh mortal you
trapped outside these
chalked white hills
a song in your head
given to bone
