a whole swath of decisions mixed
like alfalfa, weeds, and burrs
walking through summer's fever
pricked by thoughts from the flesh
while somewhere in the furrows
carrots root, hide, rest for now
i've a poison on my arms and legs
from traveling too close to the earth
a rash of itching and scratching
rubbing salve reminds me of failure
too many moments where longing took
away from peace within a cooler place
my heartbeat betrays my timeless soul
as the world burns and fades within me
but those memories will fall like ripening hay
as the carrots ready for the autumn harvest
and my spade sinks deep in better soil.
No comments:
Post a Comment