Taking a moment
to find my head.
I think I lost it in
intoxicating thoughts
and dreams
sold to me
by fox-faced hawkers
who abstain
from the way we go.
Caught up in a tempest.
Begun a slow meander.
River in the gorge
became a master,
and I became a slave
to every rock and rapid.
My transom snapped
and taken on water.
Soon,
capsized and in distress,
not sure if I ever new
anything more,
or anything less
than destruction.
Feeding my mind
with open hands.
Seeking out the flavor
of a morning Sun,
a day begun
in earnest.
Behind these unwary eyes,
a haunted, hunted
shadow calls out
in the way
of mourning birds,
or laughing children,
echoing in the valley.
Crushed to dust.
Burned to ash.
All that remains
are base elements.
Attract
like magnetic draw
the evening
and the river,
widening out
into a broad plain.
The ocean awaits.
HG – 2022
