Friday, August 30, 2019

three (28, 29,39)

1 (28)

An
anchorite
needs
squared
prayer,
limitless.


Twice swallowed,
barn bairns
stayed
stared into me.
You, fledglings,
river edged,
were right.


2 (29)

Hot as hell
well,
an exaggeration.

Cicada
on the sidewalk, capsized.
Its death has weight
without
tymbals.
It's
clickless,
unflicked,
decrepitated,
dis-stridulated.


3 (30)

My mind's meandering
through two deaths in four days.
Lived, died, a dyad.
We, water, acceptance.