Blazing desert from sunset
to the good morning together
the neck memorizes the memory
factual or not of the touch of
the hand of all those digits
let us now coordinate
considering how open to be
the lobe where inputs arrive
and life is made out of it
feed it and keep it flexible
no averse tightening up please
walk slowly steadily on the sapphire
hip that faciltates walking
between your leg and the other’s
transferring weight like a voice
or two voices turning takes
on the kissing of fulcra
the elbow of the connection
we have been heatedly forging
is where joint fondles joint
where playing is fashioned into
functioning with the hammer
and sickle of many seasons
of hauling in the grain
arms in lengths like rakes
feet advancing in mazurkas
humming the sun advances
pressed into service by the month
in which rewards are dispensed
gold, sweet, bottled and burned
in sacrificial locution loyal
like ancestors like children
cut then gathered then shaken
chaff removed then the crushing
savings spilt into vats into
stone wheels in streamed mills
making of sky and rain grain
for the slapping into patties
of flatbread fundamentals feeding
the babies we made while
the fields demanded most
of our elated labors daily
training us male and female
in the art of concert in the slow
generous pots in almost asleep
rejuvenation of linkage
palm upon belly legs crossed
tired and thrilled and leaning
away from reckoned regiment
toward unbelieved sagacity
belly half full of ferment
mind fully flush with immanence
limbs making their own decisions
passing the paths of union
brushing against sunny sapience
incited to urge past repentence
into fields of bee-blessed croon
unthinkable now so soon
the promiscuous promise hence
the norm and everyday fence
where once we sang for hope
for desperate break of day
we after this oblivious twist
sing knowingly and pray
without doubt in lip or bone
that what we ask will be done
that however the end if ending
is our fiery fate we shan’t
be judged separately
or declared severable
the wrist the thumb
the heel the ankle
the wife the man
the ditch the land
the babe the blanket
the jaw the smile
the ease the effort
the sea the isle
suddenly you and I stop
weeding the garden and look
and we embrace the clue
we did not know we knew.


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
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