I really want to get this going....

Each day's listing is an excerpted edit from my work. These are numbered and sub-headed for ease of read and isolation from full body of continued text. Each small excerpt is a single-themed piece culled from a much larger whole. Please follow the heading numbers down to #1, or click on 'archive'. The highest numbers are most recently posted, obviously. If so interested, for follow-up, you may contact via e-mail shown - perhaps for discussion or annotation needed.

Saturday, February 19, 2011



And I had a butterfly in hand but lost it sending and I had a hummingbird in view but it flew to other nectar and across the twisted bridge I watched you enter some other land and understood immensely what was going on and the high grass managed to hide nothing but the water’s edge as the old station house painted in oranges and blues stood like a hellion on the old abandoned hill and fifty-five broken gravestones gathered and fell as I walked through their debris and kicked at remains while trying to read old words through the never-ending moss but all went for nothing and INSTEAD OF ALL THAT there arose a cloud and a cloud of light transported the bridge and the world around it far back into me and you and without knowing we understood it all but voices crying were still calling out and heard and we gathered INTO OUR HOLY CLOAK everything we could as some Noah on acid of old so TWO BY TWO they went and they came and we went and took them with us and reseeded renewed refound was ALL the world (and a more generous and gentle place too) and before long once more we were standing on the old brick wall and around us everywhere it was falling but for where we were which place withstood the whole entire onslaught and more (and it was then I found your name inscribed amidst the clouds and the masses of heaven arrayed) "but we’re running out of time I’m sure of that" you said as the sky above darkened in early Fall and tried (as it were) to go away but all I said back was "all to black must fade – wouldn’t you agree?" and you nodded (one twice three) and said back "yes but you miss the point for it’s really not the color I’m concerned about" and I understood at that moment most everything else too and watering troughs and brick-stone wells were placed half-miles apart for miles as we traveled but without thinking why we went on and you said "once long ago they had horses for everything and by them they traveled and these were their stops all throughout the day" and we laughed to decide it was all like a gas station would be today - that blemished and that stupid and that prevalent and that overlooked and (in our shrugging) we realized anew that the world is a very lost place and something (found) but not without little value.


Post a Comment

<< Home