the temporary rhizome
spreads leafless tranquil
over Rocky Mountain up drafts
dirt switch back
gravel pack rats make camp
rustle with squirrels
nag chomp head wind
hatch the dawn
comes from the West.
oaky morning brew
joe on the balcony
smiling at the yellow horizon
purple ribbed jewel
of the sun
negligent careless
of
the known—
do not matter
when
fall begets
my
burlap back sap
nature’s tap
on my cold weather still
grinds the grizzly gone to Wyoming
lumberjack passes
between and under mountains
crick simple
mouth water
and candle
sage, time red
ribbons
wrapped about its body
bread to
suffer
burning castle wood
rock and clay—
i eat Earth intravenous
silver hibiscus liquid
Mercury, Mars
and Venus
my mother, between us
and the sun.
be at peace
and lay down beside me
when you are 20 hours away—
this last clock square
on the mantle
and in my parent’s kitchen
in Maryland
the
same one here
and what does it say?
the laws of man
are suspended
in the pale Milky Way
bowing to the night
subtle candor
blinking
barely
at the soft swatch of hair
straying from my habit—
the last thing i want
is to be left here
when the cold drum comes
to pound parade ranks
down our Berlin guns.
mountains bud their berry canyons
raccoons sweep their patios
clean their paws
hands, with opposite thumbs
to unlock the front door
is sideways—
this
end up
because pipe
lines
are
fragile.
rachet the hatches
and seal down the mattress
to the cold metal floor
the studio, the cabin
the cave in which to hibernate
sunder
heartily
the winter
the sun the
snow
break
through
the fog of
Clydesdale horses
triumphant
in
our broad wools
knitted hooves
cradle
cobblestones
over dead bone cobwebs
closets and
ancestors
wrapped up in the basement
the soot fireplace
resilient stalwart
fortress blue
cement building blocks
mark the eye from the dirt long driveway
Douglas Fir pinecones
open from the Fort Collins fire
50 miles away
black smoke rings
laced with moth wing
and moon rocks.
Mary unlocks the fetters
on my toadstool brain
sends rain down the canyon
to fill up the valley
b‘fore we can flood ourselves out to be saved.
