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Saturday, April 27, 2013


Three photographs from the internet.


They never reach the ground.
We can see them riding the wind,
Tails  streaming out behind them.
We will never know their destination.

Sometimes we just float on the tides.
We look up at the clouds but they
Are busy.  Most of the sound is gone.
There wasn’t enough to go around,
Now it’s gone or only a ghost.  The
Blindness is only temporary.  It will pass.

We begin to open the packages.  There
Is fire in them.  We feel we see friends
In the flames, faces and gestures we
Had forgotten.  Whatever the sea is doing
Is making us look harder and harder
At its breathing, at its waves, so much
Like the clothing we wore during the cold,
How hard it was to move.  We would use 
Our hands to talk to one another.  That might
Have been a clue.  Yes it might have been.

They show us where the lightning is kept,
Tell us we can use it if we have the need.
We do not understand what they are talking about.
We didn’t even ask to come here.  We will
Never reach the earth this way.  Too much
ice.  Too much sun.  Too much of this dancing
We must do to even move a few miles.

There will be consequences for what we have
Done here.  Trails of Virga will follow us down,
As close as they can get.  I’ll not remember you
By the time the sun is just opposite where we 
Are now.  There will be a rainbow.  This is how
You will know it was us.  Sorry we couldn’t wait
Any longer.  We didn’t have ourselves in order.

This Saturday Medusa's Kitchen has published a number of my poems from the past week.  Try if you'd care to see it.
The next few photographs are mine.

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