Dream Whale
I pick my way beneath the oily wooden dock, pilings down in sea water, invisible in the dark, and I feel the old fear. I
February 24, 2012
8 Comments
I pick my way beneath the oily wooden dock, pilings down in sea water, invisible in the dark, and I feel the old fear. I
In the dusky blue of early evening Venus emerges like a lantern in the west then Jupiter following loyally like a light bearing knight. Three
I harvest words within the earth made of owl wing, moon change, fallen trees and stubborn grass. Old rocks lend their stories, wet spray of
Ideas give way to feeling, feeling to the essential – the mystery of a moon lit tide, the rise and fall of life in trees.
My head aches, the bones in my hand throb, their stories of punishment coming out in skeletal code. Icy fog covers the valley; as I