Purple flowers are growing through my back door between the cracks of what should close.
I slipped and fell downward on the slope tailbone cracked but continued anyway, needing to see what was further below. Stupid of me, I only had that small piece of toast for breakfast perspiring, fuzzy, continue the descent, I thought Then I landed. I needed this dark day fog settling, in the morning damp, gray the rain misting and then clumping down fat upon my cheek. I couldn’t breathe before - with so much light in the air.
Now I am settled again mossy and grounded and free Encumbered by the surrounding woods, looking up at those leaves dancing branches in the sky pitter pats of what is sobbing from otherworlds above. I hadn’t written poetry for a time Why was this? Books pages are consuming. I killed the battery of my melodies of music Oh well, mud squishing, running between my fingers instead, And now those dead leaves cling upon the black knee of my pants. Snake tails slithering through the grass– Twins. I named them once, I think...
I feel safe wandering here, in being, lostness in the mystical What a change that is from hypervigilanced requirements demands, fatiguing from before. A woodpecker nails at that tree from above.
This dark still pond, black beneath hanging branches that tickle and descend at the waters edge. Nothing moves. Down I am immersed into the wet gravity pulling beneath the unconscious undertows, taking me nearer to the beginning of what was supposed to be. Primordial eyes looking back at me– You are down here, too. The water osmosing in and out of my open mouth,