Mimicking Birds – The Chimney Sweep
I slipped fate.
The coarse, rough, and fear
feeling midpoint.
Trampling medians between
The plunge and the numb.
Some doubt grows and fades.
A dying breath
thick with spit and
maybe this is right.
Maybe I’m comfortable with this.
Or maybe my compass got stuck a long time ago.
Either way I don’t think I’m that OK.
Rebirth.
It takes nine months to come to this.
Every child begins the world again,
to some extent,
and so have I.
And I will not stop dying.
One day The Ship will sail.
And I’ll be on it.
image: fiddle oak
The Walkmen - On the Water
The dragons head for air,
and the part timers follow suit.
Flash clubs, three in a row, dig
graves
with
spades.
I can't explain how I feel.
Sea lions comfort me.
It does a thing.
Still though, I'm breathing flames.
I make calm to my limbs.
Simmer some.
Let's do this tango.
Throwing in
some calculated grin.
And yes,
restless dreams come in episodes,
but everyone dies when the sun explodes.
Sky goes dark, and,
I can only see when I breathe.
Sea?
Out.
Light.
Out.
Light.
Out.
Light.
Headed in the wrong direction.
Not again,
Magdalene.
You lost the light of the stars.
Shut out by fire.
And I cannot explain how I feel.
And Sea lions comfort me.
image:
acraein 
