Cold west wind
Dead blunt force of a
Bumbling windchime
clanking all hell
and out of
Harmony in my ears.
—-
Loose thoughts of a
Bended mind about
The sunset draped like
A great cathedral mural.
Again the idea of West and
Waning time.
—–
Moon blue fingernail
Of the cosmic finger
Squeezing the trigger
Of the gun to the head of
The universal mind then,
big bang
end of night.
——
Sweet life for a ride
Well ridden. The roads.
The rail, the beckoning
Sky, her great wide turns
Brewing weather, October’s punches
raining down.
We are born
Under the bird song again.
Thankful. Thankful.
©sunontiepost2016
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