Monday, July 20, 2015

Poem: Reclamation

Coyote laughs as he wanders into the city.
Ancestral, remembers when it was his, stars in velvet.
Full moon a circle, fast food over the hilltop,
creatureless eyes move ever closer.

Grandmother Spider's webs weave
through westerly waters.
Thirsty ground, drinking too fast,

Pennies drop into hungry slots,
minerals torn from the Mother's breast.
Coyote tilts his head to listen -
London Bridge is falling down.

In the distance, the city
seems to sleep
Sometimes, death is more
like dreaming.

(c) 20 July 2015
Inspired by He Was 65, a work by Fred Mecklenburg

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