Misdirection
pulling on my hand
leading me into darkness
blind to your intent
–
autumn’s glory
reflections in
our tiny screens
pulling on my hand
leading me into darkness
blind to your intent
–
autumn’s glory
reflections in
our tiny screens
wet and matted hair
cold rain, hot blood, and cordite
soak into the dirt
–
a sparrow-
perched on
a ruined shell
dark, ominous skies
grey terns perched on a buoy
turned to face the wind
–
roiling water
gulls soar effortlessly
above the rocky shoals
bone tired, weary
driven forward all the while
dragging this baggage
–
shimmering heat
an old prospector
pulls at his burro
lingering on a
sea of empty promises
wet with resentment
–
dripping-
an eagle’s
empty talons
the last vestige
of the sinking evening sun
sets the sky alight
–
painted hillsides
a winding road turns
though burning leaves
ice over fresh snow
the delicate crust holds me
momentarily
–
warm green grass
a raindrop rolls
down my cheek
a flash of silver
bright water patters and breaks
the woodland silence
–
finally unfettered
carried aloft
on golden wings
flooded rice paddies
on the roadside sheaves of straw
drying in the sun
–
high spring sun
nimble fingers
sowing wheat
an icy black rain
the autumn harvest freezes
while still in the field
–
a desert night
cold hard water
feeds the fire