CASTAWAY
skies
bristle to midnight
to sleep in the shadow of the barn
with homesick dreams
and pourquoi tales
lost among the furious trees
to settle for the shelter
of the velvet owl
to live in the land of
castaway lamps
and the bare moon rustle
of the windy barn
DUST
an uncommon day of light and air
a poet with swallowtail eyes
a lonely rabbit with bigger dreams
we clamor for boulders in the dry dust wind
a mooring, a strand
a shimmer in the roaming shade
but the lonely rabbit
with the dry dust eyes
will sleep by the brambled grave
IRONCLAD
a crackling train
night indigo
lurches along mudshack outposts
wrestling the cargo of the lonely blacksmith
the emptiness of the last trampled plain
time’s merciful silhouette
with nothing more to lose
burns its love letters in the coal fires
of a treeless dusk
and vanishes into the dusty threads
of history’s folktale
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