where I found peace
One. Isolated sliver of stone-walled River through
New trail’s flowers painted yellow, blue.
water flows an inch at a time
the slab of stone my bones sit on keeps time.
This. Is the way the poem’s end grabs with rhyme
Is how the rock where (all) reside is
Is a violin beside
a low-pitched penetrating whistle
the chirping cicadas and the
Of symbiotic life taking
roaches to the bin
Of neither saint nor law nor grace nor sin –
Of where blank paper meets
the coldwarm hues of pen
Is breathing life-
‘s earnest gratitude
for one more breath of Oxygen,
and the next.
The last minute
of the final most beautiful song by a bird
playing as idealized lonesomeness is reached
For which we long. The unveiling of the yellow
gold cutleaf coneflower
Catwalking the sand runway saying stop
drop this minute to the tune of an hour.