Sonnet #270

The line between nature and man is easy

There is a trail along the ground and mowers

Come to clear the path, but tractors

Don’t travel into trees, so there, a line you see

 

It follows us home if we let it, where the line

could be anywhere, hidden behind a fence

In empty flower pots where anything’s presence

Is allowed – spiders and ants and weeds, it’s fine

 

Let the line fall over the night sheets, where dreams

and possibilities wrestle in the dark, wild places

kept and unkempt, a hidden shadow kingdom

where the eyes look out from darkness, faces

unknown by even us, carry this unknown seams

loosely in the daylight, be vessels for feral graces

 

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s