Freedom
‘neath a festive sky-
cold ashes rain down upon
old lakota land
–
beneath the stars-
none of us free
unto the last
‘neath a festive sky-
cold ashes rain down upon
old lakota land
–
beneath the stars-
none of us free
unto the last
an old farmers sink-
her mind miles away from the
blood in the carpet
–
back garden soil-
no amount of soap
makes her feel clean
vultures overhead-
circling waiting before
feasting on the dead
–
red skies-
a tempest
at our door
drowning each of us
in the blood of our comrades
within sight of shore
–
tulips blossom-
death takes no heed
upon who’s grave
my rhododendrons-
robins erupt into song
just before the dawn
–
the sun rises-
heedless of the
whiskey and beer
dusting the knickknacks-
doing my best to ignore
the crumbling walls
–
afternoon light-
fresh paint on
cracked concrete
a field of shadows-
the bargains made with myself
so swiftly broken
–
a full flower moon-
silver shadowed
daffodils
a passing shower-
drops of moonlight patter on
our shared umbrella
–
the taxi gone-
three long flights
to your apartment
an ocean of sleep-
the receding tide leaves a
tangled mat of dreams
–
dandelion seeds-
bare whispers
of my mind
on the edge of sleep-
hours before my alarm rings
each noise a crisis
–
suddenly awake-
a murderer
or my cat?