and their children
(2013)
Beloved goddess, sweet holy mother of us all, you who beckon me throughout these hectic days
I am seven years old. My brother is ten. The beating was brutal. My brother is recovering conscious… I believed he was dead.
I saw him for the first time ever; the one who stole my soul away. He appeared in a dream. I had never seem him before, yet no doubt it was him.
There ain’t no precious gold comin’ outa that there mountain, if all I wanna do is sit and dream of what I’ll do when I get some.
Something whispers, certainly not nothing. A subtle impetus to choose to stir and rise
Everything he has ever been taught alerts him to avert that dancing f… What is it then that demands he mu… proceed towards his certain fiery… Some deep and ancient voice within
The storm is brewing. I smell it in the air. I am panicking. I can barely breathe. I fear this tempest
Time wears away at me, like water on a stone, oh, so slowly, but inevitably, drop by drop,
Clawing away. It’s dark here, chill and dank. Can’t stop now. Can’t stop ever.
Who of you will follow where I’m bound to go? None that I can see. None that I can name. No-one that I know.
These words are crude utensils, with which to touch you, and be touched;
I am crying now. I don’t know why. Am I supposed to know why it is I cry ? Though I always feel
That blue-gray rainy day, the blue-gray funeral parlor. There you were laid out in blue and gray. So still.
He’s been around the block and even toured the world, with scars upon scars to show from many a hard-fought battle. Yet like many old dogs