Author: ahorsealone

Doorless Key

ahorsealone

These letters are want the days
That I’ll remember few,
When we galloped fields of sage
And valleys of featherfew.

There you hummed a poets lines,
When of sage rose grape vines;
And threaded the night a gown
With lamp lights that littered town.

I couldn’t as a stranger pass
As you dressed a virgin land,
A language braided of the past
With a homeless heart and handless hand.

So  your hills I braved
When you unearthed to me,
As we with night behaved,
Where you conceived a doorless key.

 

 

 

The Adult and Child

ahorsealone
Your inner child speaks to me
From a time we’ll never know,
From a far away moment
Let from a God’s stolen bow.
“…Collapse with me
Beyond films of certainty.
There is nothing to forget,
Oh the moments not yet met!”
—
“Let us go where we haven’t been,
Somewhere not alone.
And far is a lovely place.

…a place between far and home.”

To my sister

ahorsealone

You are a temple for lost souls,

Who seek not scripture but rest.

For your doors are never closed

And spring runs childishly about.

 

And when the harsh winds of winter

Come bellowing from the North,

They are tempered in their shame,

Settling in their youth, beneath your eyes.

 

Life will not find your secret,

As she is blind to her self.

Though time will remember your refuge,

And forever find you, his rest.