These Bones Will Rise

to love you again,
or sculpt a new ragweed.

Slow saving, ask why
the suffering lasts

far too many lives
scared to go to the lake

and I, in the morning haze
drift above gray waves.

Take driving away–Siphon
turning around life,

but there’s no purer loneliness
than picking up, drifting away…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s