The excavation

Her dreams were buried deep, below her proud standing. Here she was, in the high of day's noon. Sweat fell like raindrops from a broken gutter. The desert dust keeping her eyes dry and clean. A space-aged shovel clanked on a boulder. It fell with the pack it clung to from home. Her tools spilled loose from the green army denim. She unwrapped a journal zipped safely in plastic. Pushing rubber buttons on the trusty Magellan, "beep, beep" came the assurance she rarely required. This is where history would merge with the present. Knee-pads inched their way over giant boots with effort. She had learned long ago the little things made the difference. She found her spot in this dry dusty nowhere. Raising her shovel high like some temple queen, she plunged her dagger deep into the earth. Bleeding rubble came spewing as she stabbed at her victim. She grunted in rhythm as the rocks crumbled surrender. Hours passed gently like a ten-speed geared easy. Her water was mental as she drank from the thought. Clank was the sound that would quench these lips open. She'd stop on the moment and bask in its time. By sunset she'd reach it, and pull loose her bounty. The dusty handle would squeak joyfully from attention. At that moment, she'd cross her legs and wipe her brow. She'd be sure and cherish the big reveal. She'd brush clean the container like a rescued box turtle. Inside, in the dark, waiting for the light. Her secret would shine again.

She told me frankly

She told me frankly that we were nothing special. My youth recalls the feeling as I paced through the streets. Gut-struck by the punch deep and low in the belly. My breath shattered into a million tiny pieces. My back falls to its knees searching for the beat. Drowning in surprise, the heart keeps gasping. Eyes claw their way up on the raft of belief. Now stranded on this sparse island. Vultures circle my hope laying fetal and panting. My destiny revealed in a feeble lonesome shadow. It stretches across the dunes as the sun slips away. In the dusking quiet i notice the moon has her company. Up there, deep in her mood. She reflects a lover's burning passion. Pools of tranquility look down on me with pity. Sometimes i notice the stars don't twinkle. They pulse an S.O.S. across the thick dark sky. In this cold, in this wind, in these bones, I am my hermit. I wrap my fish in the news of a family. I spark my tinder from a message in a bottle. I paint my cheeks with the ashes of our fire. It burned so bright, but so does my drumming. Through my nose. Out my mouth. No need for pinching. Alive and feasting on regret's bloody throat. Healing is overrated. Scars are trophies. Memories are ribbons. Your's is velvet blue with a giant gold medallion. Life should be so very proud of me.

Carnivore

Gather around me oh blessed creatures
i wish to eat you one by one
My eyes are the fork i use to pluck you
My ears slit your throat and stab in the chest
Your blood is my gravy that beats deep inside me
Your skin is my trophy your bones to my drum
I suckle the cobalt that winks on your feathers
I marvel the whispers that creak from your beak
I nuzzle the talons and gnaw on your skullcap
My teeth are stained with the fat from your lips

The color of winter

Winter touches me. I feel her snow between my fingers. The air of winter is always listening. Its shiny crystals carry our words like some heraldic message. Even the sun can hear the sermon reflected in its light. Lungs paint stories like chimney smoke from the heart. All is written in the winter with a giant charcoal pencil. White, so thick with color, like a cardinal in the snow. Icicles drip from rooftops, their pipes a grand cathedral. The forest floor remembers, each footstep is not forgotten. Winter knows every moment, every breath, every color, every drop. When she tilts, it all matters!

How vivid was this confidence

How vivid was this confidence that brought you up this mountain. So high we stand together, faces cradled in the wind. Fearless hope keeps your wondrous eyes from peeking. Vaulted more by a simple press of tiptoes from the edge. A giant valley of doubt lays crumpled far below us. We come from the bottom. Baptized in her river. Time-and-again our squishy boots have squeaked their way home. For years the spine rested in the shape of a question. Now with nerves untwisted, we form a proud exclamation. Here, drink love's water, from my roots to your branches. Under our tree, we cast this blanket. Nibbling on the fruit of our dreams. Together, up here, among the raptors, where the air feels its purpose.

Up, Up and Away

Last night my head leaped from a car window. The wind inflated my cheeks like gills on a fish. My eyeballs turned sticky from the chill in the air. My belly fizzed a romantic bubbly. We were two people, traveling just below the canopy of southern Appalachia. I was already home. Squinting at the thought of us maybe in the distance. Here, carriaged by four cylinders, secretly wishing we would drive forever.

Events start and stop. Pleasure spreads ripples through our memories. Simon and Garfunkel lend us their tune. The best parts are when you are singing. The harmony of all this double-bounces my heart right out of my mouth. My lips erupt their precious secret, "let's keep falling higher and higher. Life's balloon gave me this one string. And the levity of you pulls my whole world up, up and away."

Clouds crash

Yesterday, the clouds were crashing. A twisted tree pointed to the fray, so proud of its discovery. The heaven's mumbled as what was once fluffy fell to its knees. Swords of thunder ripped through the sky like rocks through rice paper. The ground did not peep; so brave was its position, beneath an armor of history so thick and pure. A rabbit finds shelter as his nose twitches the news. Birds ruffle patiently behind eyes that seem to yawn. Forming a chorus of "this too shall pass", we listen for the sun together.