4 thoughts on “Weathering

  1. the moon
    is gasping Aquarius
    the wind
    is a slow blues
    a billow mythology
    is dreaming calculus
    madness and the arc
    of salvation in curds
    push the rain
    radio stations
    we are harking amplifications
    of quiet divines
    we are wandering souls
    we are sounds wanting
    to be
    dead eye posters
    gold for flesh
    silver for words
    water, water everywhere
    caught daughters
    milling gravity
    as if ghosts
    were supposed to haunt
    the grains
    time calls seeds

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