Monday, 3 July 2017

in the folds

my empire of dirt
it sounded on the radio
a country boy's hurt
after a wander around
a burnt down house
somewhere out east
by the lake, the wild heath
the moody sky 
beneath it, I seek 
an atoms weight of peace
           a crease
unfolds in a field
       a swamp, a wild rabbit
             crazy horse
comes up again
                           and red cloud
       the bisons
they go quiet
the birds chirp, chirp, chirp,
the wind is so loud
 there is no peace
no peace no peace 
                                         no peace
but at least

          there's life
(somewhere in the folds)