Monday, October 12, 2009

The Hike



What is with you, on this hike
Is what you will see:
Bullet holes of autumn leaves
Lifeless heads of oak galls
Broken bones of ancient trees.
Unleash the grip and enter
Open-palmed, unsheltered eyed
And naked hope unfolds
Rebirthing in the scattered flesh
Multiplied and Gorgon-like
Spreading like noxiousness
In fields of the damned to take
Over the path you chose
Not to take, the red flowers
Being
simply
what they are.

3 comments:

  1. I'm glad I have froggie photo on the wall and galls to keep in a bell jar over the winter. The red flowers, I will keep tucked away inside. Your poetry is beautiful.

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  2. I am lovin the poetry from both of you - thanks!

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  3. Thank you, so much! Sometimes, the poetic mind is the erotic mind... :-)

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