Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Between Finger and Mountain

matcha mix of waterfall springs
                                           green from my cup

     the coming days melt like algeaic glacial springs

valleys carved
                        and spun from what had ever been
     mountains of never summer rolling thunder rain

above the tree line the clothesline of root wire fall

ranging boulders smothered and scalded
                                                                  by driving wind
     below the crawling scarred bellies
plastic wrap and tuperware joints

the plastic castles and the reached for sky.

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