
everything too suchness
fan rattle to flame seething
and shudder limbs shake
ragged wrap in arms
of rags and wraith
chasing all elder ways
knock the stone fell
rattle the bones
shake in clenched silence
rattle all those bones

everything too suchness
fan rattle to flame seething
and shudder limbs shake
ragged wrap in arms
of rags and wraith
chasing all elder ways
knock the stone fell
rattle the bones
shake in clenched silence
rattle all those bones

with a head full of thistle &
hands stained of woad
skating away over water to
while away a spell
with the acorn man
you probably
would not understand
that has become a given
over these near
twin scored years
and so it comes to
wander this wodewood alone
chatting with oaks
in the blackthorn
with a head full of thistle &
hands stained of woad

is it descendance
or ascension
when desire is
in suspension?
when you feel
tension but remain
uncompelled to act
on anything at all?
are you alive
without drive or
are you just living
life small?

i walk
the black sands
hand on hand
holding the blade
carving a line
none dare cross
we are rose petals
scattered scarlet
blood my blood
a desert red without
you mouth to
drink me in
winter song of wine
a stone beach
broken of time