Two mice in time

 The white mouse was day
The dark mouse night
They would take turns to run the wheel
The saw dust and feces

The running and the anxiety behind the legs
The revolving caged wheel
Glass exterior oneself on display
dark mouse night, white mouse day

Little legs hurry
The religion of productivity
practiced through prayer of scurrying
Fingers touch and mist the glass

Sometimes tapping
Sometimes putting skin on glass
The prints appear as hieorglyphs
Mice eyes attempt to decipher

In a reality where the only noise
When the wheel is not turning
is the second hand ticking 
Running around the face

Anchored and fixed

 The two greet me
Feel relief
There are no obstacles
Lie down

There is no resistance
Intangible freedoms
Such that would satifsy
For long hours

The ship awaits
It's sails not yet fitted
The wood dry and salty
Lie down

It is anchored
on the quay
Two masts reaching up
Looking over the harbor

Eyes evaluating observing
Focusing and then staring
There is a tightening
A sense of abandon

There is not boat traffic
The bay is clear
But the ship is fixed fast
It will not stray

A poet unseen

 Here the poet stands in the familiar unfamiliar
You rub your eyes, face of the man unseen
The face is concealed only words can be heard
Words that rhyme and catch meaning

He gives and takes like a tide
stands still between roads
Observing the chaotic
the metaphor flows

The poet stands with words accumulated
He selects which ones highlight reality best
To conjure the desire for a glorious birth
To make way for a relieving death

Nightgown

Nightgown

Material slips easily up the leg
 fresh out the bath,
next to the fireside
 where hands wait.

like a wilderbeast grazing
 slowly makes it's way over you
 Slowly and sweetly open
hint of doubt

 Then one of permission
as you give yourself
 over without decision

The fire cracks
something pushes against the hottest point
It invites the intrusion
as if to absorb it's deeper meaning

Slow moan as it slides up
 Carries it's intention to tighten and pulse.

To free burden,
Moving in further deepening
The fire roasts these bodies.

The full range of motion
 running through you
 lips to kiss
 to tongue to drinking in one another.

Arriving at the homestead

 The three boys peered down from the hill
Below stood the house they were raised in
The candle light in the windows lit up the wheat field nearby
A tall figure stood before the thatch house as if casting a spell

The figure wore a human skull as a mask 
somehow had embedded goats horns into it
The wind blew slightly warm to the feel
The folding wheat sprigs exposed the figures gown

The children fixated on the figure
The oldest pointed out three other figures
partially absconded in the elms at the bottom of the hill
But moving around as if waiting for an invitation

The wind died down and a musket shot rung out
the children jumped in fright and ducked
As the blast echoed out across the landscape
The figure in the mask had disappeared

The three figures in the elms had vanished
A farmer appeared holding a musket and lamp
The children leapt up and ran toward him
"Father!"

Arrival before dawn

 The three childrens paddled their way through the dark
Approaching the yellow dim lit dock
Navigating through a narrow inlet 
A distant harbor bell rings

The dark water below surges
Shimmering with the dock lamplight
The older child paddles from the back
The youngest paddles from the middle

The middle child rows firmly fromt he front
The narrow boat approaches the deck
The oldest child grabs the upright
tying the knot on quickly as the boat jerks

He jumps onto the quay deck
The middle child lifts the younger up
The oldest helps him onto the wood
The middle child takes the older child's hand and swings up

  

Scorched from within

 They extend upward like towers
With flames curling off them
The world needs tenderness
The world begs to be pillaged

Where there are empty houses
kindling awaiting for the flame
The fixed ready to be broken
Opening to the blows and fire

Wanting the wood of it's structure
To feel the lick and then turn ember
giving it's surfaces to further the fire
Until it's raging torrents of heat eat