With which life
Clings to life
Inspires me
But they’ve all touched me
I would not be who I am
Without their influence
I love the chutzpah of communities
Which plunk themselves down on the edge of a continent
That the sea has been ferociously taking back
Since the land was born
Feeling
very small
and finite
Like here, where the fires burned
In Yellowstone
And the sky shone purple
Above the sun’s yellow, turned
But time itself wields no might
But for agents of change
Like the workings of nature and her creatures
I walk a beach at ebbing tide
And leave footprints of no consequence
Washed away in just a couple of waves
Continued from Come, it said.
Out of the darkness, I see a glint of steel, coming at me.
The glint of steel becomes a fist, becomes an arm… becomes an army.
An army of steel, allied only with steel. It marches, gleefully, through a sea of terror, slices through, like a scimitar through flesh.
No. A scythe, like a scythe through a field of humanity.
Storms and
The gentlest breath of air
Stripped me down
To barest essence
Through all that
Have I watched
The comings and goings
Of the living