Sea Ghost
at your age it was a routine the next doctor the next feeling the next bully the next pill something's wrong with you
By Timothy James Lane3 years ago in Poets
a color in fire's subtle violence was lost igniting our own shadows long ago it was after we first shook the roots of mountains
we had chased the dwindling sun so far up the mountain no fruit in the forest, but stale bread across the water we took a goldfish from it's home
the door is open but the mouth is still as meltwater finds the base of the mountain unspoken words leave us slipping through space
facing the weight of the wind old birds hang in the air pages of a tired book knowing of things off paper words mostly seen from above
what do we know of love those of us escaping our first memories we ran to the lake shores at first made music with the water
remember how the room would breathe four walls two faces the engine rattling in the dark how the armor found you you stood on the stairs to the attic
it's nighttime a door closes the colors of the moon climb over the prairie where a heart was we could have slept there
white hot like the spire at the top of your head like the scars on your face your anger falling into footsteps beside you, racing
In our youth we had nearly found All the reasons not to believe in anything Anymore The voices were reaching out to us across the dormant wind
how does a memory rise smoke palms in the sum of voices cool air driftwood balsam and never returning the singing shoals
there is a homeless camp at the bottom of the mountain where i pick chanterelles remember how last summer how we painted with the rain