Better The Air

night

pure darkness

all stars

winds raking sage into piles of shattered silver

roots crying out to deep

oh the black and bones of these mountains

 

coyotes weep at the moon

clinging to the hillsides with tongues and claws

tails

straight as arrows

yipping the planet into spin

 

i am in the high country

my forehead pressed against the dome of the sky

sipping at the milky way with thirsty lips

grinding stars between

my teeth

 

i cannot feel my hands

this cold air is too bitter

better the air than my young heart

 

Comments

  1. You. Are. Inspiring.

    Seriously.

  2. jennifer. is. right.
    yes. you. are.
    seriously.

  3. Breath taking imagery, both your photographs and your words.

  4. Oh, hello poetic one,
    I’ve missed you.
    Loving your bones & braid, and gulping down your words. x

  5. Hey sweets. Good to see you here again.

  6. Nice to hear you.

  7. the idaho prayer.

  8. Tis’ the month for coyote skulls.

  9. sheesh, you poetic being, you took my breath for a moment. awesome.

  10. My dear, far away friends, most of whom I have never met:

    Thank you always for being here.

    X

  11. Coyotes are moving farther into Maryland, even into the cities. I so hope to hear them crying out to the moon!