Monday, May 17, 2010

A Feather in the Wind

A Feather in the Wind



My morning cup of coffee.. .. ..
I watch a feather in the wind
while the dead grass grows slowly
and a small seed blows through the open window .. .. ..
a distant telephone ringing
slices into the morning air .. .. ..
a spider creeps slowly across the wall
diagonally toward the sagging ceiling.. .. ..
and a dragonfly swims in the hot sun
       of the courtyard .. .. ..
the free air swirls about the
      patio, lifting up the ancient skeletons of dried leaves
     and rattling them
     across  the floor,
A hidden bird sings in a stifled voice
while insects buzz as hungry beasts
they move
          distractedly
the whir of crystal wings are
a draft upon the summer memories .. .. ..
of sun burnt shins,
adventures in the backlands,
scraped raw from the thorns of the blackberry vines
encroaching upon the civilized
houses, row by row,
and the long lazy days .. .. ..
I see a child
sitting,
back to me,
thin and hunched
ribs jutting,
long black hair, flying, like crow's wings,
blowing back from her brown forehead,
she gazes into the wide horizons
at futures and possibilities

flowing past her like a lazy river
haunted and steamy,
sparkling in the light,
as she dreams .. .. ..

the roll call of hot summers clutter
my mind.. .. ..
the dust of dry winds
clog my nostrils
and I see the crows
harassing the red tailed hawk

over the black peaks of the fir trees.. .. ..
A cicada sings from the
telephone pole like a
loose wire . . .

hello, hello? Anyone there?
Each summer rolling into the next, blurring,
as if they were the tumbleweed of the high desert
clutching each other and become one .. .. ..
That child, with drooping shoulders,
slowly begins her long march
against the tide
          of the lazy river
And she
disappears into
the memories
of that distant horizon.. .. ..
The air of breathless august
is like a blight, with flies
on a bloated carcass
and the stench clings to the inside of my fingers
as I try to write my stillborn thoughts
on the bits of dried leaves
which crumble under my
un-feathered touches .. .. ..


M^^W



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