lessons learned,
i fold up my life
tears and creases plenty
across a worn map
places to see through
the hills and vale
stuff it into my satchel
without ceremony
as i crush compass
underboot and follow
a star to stone
Tag: betwixt and between
star to stone
my eye
not chasing butterflies i
not watching foxfire tonight
wisps, they drift the willow
and there i turn my eye
she wraps her pale in shadow
she wraps my heart in wire
tug with bone scarred ivory
wrapping shades through my eye
bit lip to raw and scarlet
bit neck to pierce the sighs
inking skin with stars and night
sending ink to black my eyehungers the wind
i have drawn lines
along the trees
dreaming worlds within,
time to set aside fevers--
we swing heartache
for her hills hollow
but now there is
naught left but
for the dying
willow willow
hungers the winter windsbone dreaming
bone dreaming
we rattle under ash
crisp as leaves
kissed of rime
bone dreaming
we slip that streaming
to rest at sieidi
longing of the everlasthermitage calling

Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash hermitage calling,
i shuffle to mountaintops
to sweep out the debris
from my simple shack
a facet of memory,
what hint of comradery;
it is slow work with
a single black quill
but it pleases
spirits when i do—
we flamegaze the dusk
telling tales 'til dawn
between long silences

