A Distant, Urgent Place

Touching lightly those places worn and rubbed raw by encounters less traveled.

Pulling a poem from a sketch today…

Digital-enhanced sketch from 1/18/19

Not all is as it seems.

And sometimes, every once on a ninth day, it makes the most sense to just begin again.

Touching lightly those places worn and rubbed raw by encounters less traveled.

A lit candle cradles a window.

Mud-covered frogs sing romance against dark sky.

The smell of years past fades.

Pale as dawn. Nodding. Riding off.

Wandering journeyer  

    farther

        deeper

            longer

Try. Trying to get up

Again.

Throwing fear to the fire. As it burns, till edges no longer curl.

Thin-crisp as another year melts.

Faster

     backward

       lunging

          stretching

             leaning

                yearning as I watch ghosts

                    fall away

To a distant urgent place I’ve known in another time.

Until next time,