Most every sky has a chink
For rain or sun to enter through
Most every tree or forest
Has a gap or a cutting to see you
These chinks, these cuttings
These gaps; moving, fleeting
They give you your stability
They take away your suitability
Such that you and I are unable
We are unable to hold off the wobble
We are left to bobble up and down
In search of someone others shore
Most every step leads to a void
A place for rope bridges or parachutes
Most every breath or airborne pain
Gives surety to ultimately stained fruit
These steps, these breaths
Slow, definitely measured
They give you your definition
They take away your indecision
Such that the we does not exist
We do not exist in either fire or ember
We are life’s leftover flames
In search of someone other’s ashes
Most every train of thought loses its thread
Its ability to spread & reach speech a struggle
Most every flex of the mind is limited
By the inability to synchronously juggle
These thoughts, these threads
Haphazard, without discipline
They give you your passage
They take away your assuage
Such that the I does not function
The I doesn’t give or take from you
Such that the I becomes the island
Unto which I was beckoned
Most every year washed in a new tide
A carrier of unfathomable baskets
Most every sandcastle
Washed away in the time before moonlight
These tides, these sands
Their fluidity, their impressionability
They give you your dreams
They take away whatever seems
Such that only by their side could we walk
By their side we could happily stumble
Such as when dawn light began to clear
We had to ceaselessly disappear
From the Collection One Crow to a Tree - Love in Separate Houses available from Lulu
