.
.
right now is whole, right now is holy.
(*whatever you believe)
.
.
I didn't know I was grateful
for such late-autumn
bent-up cornfieldsyellow
.
in the after-harvest
sun before the
cold plow turns it all over
.
into never.
I didn't know
I would enter this music
.
that translates the world
back into dirt fields
that have always called to me
.
as if I were a thing
come from the dirt,
like a tuber,
.
or like a needful boy. End
Lonely days, I believe. End the exiled
and unraveling strangeness.
.
.
Peace to all who enter here...
,
and a special thank you to lynne hoppe for her wonderful gift!
I will show you pictures soon!
.
