Friday, September 2, 2016

thunderstorm eighteen


blue harmonica dreams
stream across grey burlap eyes, 

soothe with nuance softness 

ears pointed toward distant sky 

fields of grace aplenty
washed clean, noontime weep 

the furrows gush a murky blood 

into willing earth tears seep 

the day of welcome wanes, dust beckons 

the lights dim, sun rises on
another's land melting cloudy
on oklahoma's rim 





(age 18, 1985)

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