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Friday, July 1, 2011




Medusa's Kitchen published this some time ago. I hope you enjoy it.

I'm still working on the Tornado section of Guy Murchie's Song of The Sky. It will be posted soon. It is worth the wait.


THE CLOTHING OF THE MORNING



The room seems very tiny

As if it could not contain

such a deep sorrow so easily.


The hole extends through the floor

With drifts of dull colored lights

Waiting around the edges of the sore.


We can’t wait any longer. We have

Seen the loved ones taken away

Into the night and have chased

After them as far as this room.


We will find a way to enter the room.

We have already begun to learn

The speech of the guardians at the doors.


One of them asked if we have keys,

Another if we knew where the drinking

Liquid was kept. We told them yes

And led them to the desert edge.


Three of us entered the room

At that time. We could hear

The weeping. We must trust

That everyone is telling the truth.


And singing. Singing. And I am

Singing and I was wearing that same

Clothing the morning wears when

It has something to show to us

That is beyond compare and we

Know it. We wish to repeat

It each time we wear these things.


Having coffee near the dooryard

The moss-covered skull so green,

So beautiful, holding the whitest

Pearl in its teeth like the truth.


We can walk here once again. Messages

From flights of geese sent to the seasons.

We climb the little hill just near

The dingle and recognize everything.

So perfect is the singing we are

Able to invent new words against it.