Close Enough To The Solstice For Human Concerns
I thought of my father's praying as I came to the shore in star light and fog to sit patiently.
Is this glass empty or full of cutting wind? the order of time eroded our firm arrangements analogy without ground still points to the sky a tree's shadow shelter from the blowing sand
I wait for the sun to turn back a breath in, a whispering a walk to the west in the dark do my feet slow the earth's turning?
A white horse barely steps halfway ahead and reveals her dark companion browsing
I retrace a path to shore first light, fresh sand but before sun rise I left for solace among the trees