The moon
A blur of soft broken light
Through thick cloud breaks –
The belly of the sky
Stained orange by city light.
Deep running water
Holding songs of trepidation,
Ahh, there are misgivings
Wrapped in soft memoried silks.
The river
The same body, yet never the same
Moment to moment –
Breathing in and breathing out.
Did you touch a star
Cut the moon with a blade
Bathe in earth’s gratitude?
Holding both silence and separation
In empty hands apart.
Gypsy guitar a’fired in flow
Throwing out notes as spray
Each cutting to the core
Shredding melody to a pulp -
Emptiness defining form.
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