Friday, March 18, 2016

Poem: Wind

I stare into the raw wind
Into the force of formation
Because I must see what things that are
I could hide in a shell
And dream so well
Within my house
A safe little mouse
But I want to touch the burning stars
I accept the cavernous scars
In healing they do not cripple me
They are only the echo
Of the universe’s natal scream


Max
March 18, 2016

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