keeper

made the climb to the edge overlooking the straits

cows at my back

dog at my side

guitar in hand

to sing to the sundown

(before that all the sendings

of peace agreements kept in a box

on a shelf

and that was the easy part)

the none all gone

the empty and the stoking wounded

the hand that grasps desperation

like a turned oar cutting the water

fast as a slicing

the black kitten sits attentive

on the imagining bed of paisley blankets

it's playing as bold as love

I have not forgotten bloodflow

knowing the memory of your face

at first sight

or long hours spent standing in windows

watching the sky

and the road

and the walk between

however it goes

I am only willing always

in the name of everything beauty