
My palm warmed the stone
I plucked from the many
As we trod long across unfamiliar awaiting discovery
Before the steep
Before the onset of fear
Before staccato breaths bred control
I paused at a rubble pile
Sacred someone says
Safe passage to those who leave an offering
Balanced here in morning’s light
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Ah
I have realized
again
and again
breathing out
breathing in
when I venture out
when I come back in
whether harsh with cold
or soft summer wind
whatever day or dare or game
we find ourselves stumbling in
Nature wins
Nature wins.
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I will cultivate my garden here
in the tilted light
to see if anything grows
and maybe, if it seems alright,
I will return again someday–
Plant everything I know.
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Bleak was the day
rain clouds beat the sunlight away
Then a beacon out of the grey
subtle Moonbeam calling my name.
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I leave small things behind
when places quietly intone
beckon from lonely shadow
some tangible confirmation
I noticed them waiting there.
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We both know
You like checked shirts
I collect bells and pencils
Stepping uphill or
Sitting quite still
We
travel well
together.

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Standing on the
platform at wing
listening to Leonard
Cohen and Old Crow’s
Crazy Eyes.
The sun rises
through a small hole
Clouds the forever
land sky scape.
my shoes no
longer fit
My blood is full
of wine.
O pilot please just
get us through
this hole of light
on time.
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Here
where the spirits
of thousands
uplifted and melancholy
sway eyes closed
imagining encounters
with greatness
gud luk
good night.
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Between shops
of Bright Letters
shouting wares
that may sell
I will slip on a shadow
haunt blunted places
that might ring my bell.
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Along the Gap of Dunloe
blackstones observe
your descent
one chestnut horse
lingers on a rise
you toss poetry
against boarded windows
of the ruins.
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Pencil on paper. Images arise. Message received.