show & tell

taller people are not necessarily smarter.  (although they may feel it’s true)  the yogurt in your bowl don’t see any difference, tall from not.  all it sees is your spoon.

some might wager taller is closer to heaven, or at least closer to the stars.  but that just depends whether you’re looking up or looking down.  who’s closer then!  so, no.

a mountain may be very tall, but mostly what they see to appreciate is looking at their feet.  feet are important to mountains.  it’s where they came from and where they’re headed next.  gravity is the smile they contain.  my daddy was once a Southern mountain, but then he was gone.

mother’s family, they were rocks, big ones.  but there was nobody to tend their opened fields, so they left.  they moved to a land that harvested fewer hard stones than before.  grandmother fed the cats, no matter their size.  it was exactly the way she spoke goodbye to me.

words are shells where someone else used to live.  now we put them in pockets, toss them far as our arms willingly reach on the Water’s face, or, collect them sorted by Color and Shape as if they still belong to someone else other than us.  sometimes we eat them.  but only rarely.

when eaten we become another life.  another life.  another star.  but we’re still the same.  the same as the first thought we thought.  like stars will do.  thoughts shimmer, do you see?

other eyes see us from far far away.  more than ten toes, more than my nose.  I am the I who is looking from here, and this is the sea and where we swim.

2016

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wings

some wings aren’t feathers, but leaves instead.

some wings drink from roots, not three toes.

some wings hold hands, finger limb to limb,
smiling into the taste behind your lips.

some wings beckon the wind to themselves
although the sentiment is mutual.

some wings remember your face, you who
swam in their autumn change of grace.

did you thirst for their brittle scattering
tresses at your feet?  they do notice that.

how our feet land in the sky does matter,
how your voice takes theirs inside.

some wings hold very still as earth
soars on past their steadfast gaze.

leaves are kin when water is blood.

world keeps listening and flying in.
 
 
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