(Wo)olen (Man)

Where do the clipped wings
Of your lionswool heart
Wish to sail?
What limbs ache for its oxygen?
Stretch leg
Bump elbows with the Universe
That wakes
Only to feel
The curled laughter on your lips
As you kiss the neck of Now.

 
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The Itinerant Elder

I go from house to house With stained index cards Detailing My mother’s, mothers’ recipes in a plain wooden box. With a Sunflower, my cousin pasted, on the front. Fruits for all pantries and appetites. You don’t need to go to the store... Continue →