Giving Ourselves a Host of Titles, Each in Turn a Song 

We are ancient trees of longing
saplings scrabbling sky
bark holding breath for morning 
limbs reaching for wayward stars
roots thirsty for darker water. 

We are head-down growing
full crunch 
hollow halfmoons 
turned to stone
alone in our soil-sigh wanting. 

Jinx us with juniper branches
small black curses of shadow 
hexagon spells of hope 
faux-fortunes in winter fabric
butterfly kisses of death. 

We are but a scattering of seeds 
a smallish smattering of soul
the loose thought floating skyward 
the spark-trail of snuffed wish
the swish of something unpocketed. 

We address the dawn
return folded edge to sender
stuff moments of splendor 
deep with seated bliss, 
sealed with a kiss. 

Quickly, day 28.

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3 Responses to Giving Ourselves a Host of Titles, Each in Turn a Song 

  1. Jules says:

    So many good lines in each verse.
    We are ancient in our DNA yet babies of the universe.

Use your words.

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