Tree Rings
Chasing apparitions of bastard
days
Jangling chains in hallways
ringing out towels of plastic names
Dumb faces erase and at dusk,
keep etching a place
Like a lighting bug outline
on the fringe of the same
Stale-stench, points of
convergence
Of where I am going and where
the war has rolled
Beating that drum and taxing
that toll
Out in frustrated blood
dripping the vile
Walking these forests and
burning the miles
Of scorched earth trails
repeating reverberating never returns
Cannot go back, grass blades
re-grow
A redwood body never has time
to relearn
Life spins out in circles, the
center is always there
Somewhere further but
somewhere connected if not intersected
Are the new years on the
outer rims or held within the freshest
Always at the core, sometimes
I wish I could truncate these memories
Explore the option of
forgetting this quagmire exists in this
Ringed circus apocalypse
making me a me and this a fire in the sky
Raining sulfur and bubbling
these roots and scalding the torn images of pursuits
Into what this monster was
and who he knows is coming in the bud of the rose
Growing this fresh cut flower
green and tender and so quick to breaking
At the sickle’s slander,
meager means of protection from prepared adversaries
Curse the name of that past
to carry around like a voodoo doll piercing myself
Let the effigy go and embrace
the pelt of the animal of those days
Long sense feasted upon,
there is a new nature to trust a life this long
Not worth the exhaustion,
keep this breath from suffocation
And maintain the designation
of an identity on the reservation
That I am I and the grip of
what was has died and shed like a toe nail grown and clipped
The new Jesus is speaking
from the center and the body is moving with a tempered
Understanding of what was
with what is, tree rings growing and knowing I will live
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