poetry & things


Winter’s unsteady weather

cold, hot desert

on this walkabout, severe angles of sun

icy mornings drip into the sweat of afternoons

the impasse of giant stones the gods have laid

to stop or climb another way

egos travel irretrievable we sink into what is real

here we scale thorny towers of denial

revealed in layers – to cry, to smile

meanwhile awakened, shaken

from the sleep of our amnesia.

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