Friday, May 28, 2010

since i left my home

my home
beneath the roll of canvas
beneath the tumble of each hill.
ambushed.

my home.
next to the porch
and his kerosene lantern

there is another
one i have never met
never spoken of until i left

sitting quietly on the edge
the chair of the porch
tumbling
tumbling

great distances he
wishes to reach

with each rock
and forth
ever closer to tipping
his hat
his scale

tumbling into
the distant earth.

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