Sep 27 2023

morning stories of the modern world

it’s dawn
and the mockingbird
is spinning

suddenly i want

to fly again
straight off the ends
of this square peg earth
into the winding path
of freedom’s glee

burrow deep into the heart
of day-blind skunk
and know the strength
that builds red bricks
from beasts of prey

ripple down
across the shoulder
of this rolled-boulder current
pounded smooth against
a blanket of doused flame

no longer
broken
but
broken open

open

and mirrored
plain

yet again

i climbed a mountain to return a heart-shaped rock,
walked a forest
and forgave the past of everything,
broke a leg and knitted living back together,
skirted
vulture cliffs and jumped only with my smile,
buried
crack-lipped hallelujahs beneath the twisted tree of pain

it’s morning
and the mockingbird

is singing

 

. . . . .