Sun beat sand sifts a fume
Stings the air
the bottoms of callused feet
from trees the branches
no reason no shape
young
the relenting swell
the body floating like acorns falling
in midair stopped
watching this way
remember the matted hair swam out
underwater holding in
counting to eight
head tilts a thin layer of
clear silent words wash the shoulders
breaking
carving letters in the taut
limbs to muscles to ears
stretching toes to hear them bend
the sound when muffled
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment