with all

off to war

lines of sweat not yet formed

blood runs in visible rivers above some grounds

for those of us who remember the red road

I can see the starlight reflected in dead eyes

tell me what the hell is high about noon

arms flying up in the air as you fall to fly

a broken winged clock

the screaming unheard evermore

at last

like a gazelle with her sharp hooves is

the bow of that child's sweet mouth nursing

close your eyes

I'll lay my hand across your brow

soothe that bleeding third eye

with the tears of your birth

we take in the wounded by the staves of their brothers

come into my house

give me a string

or some hair

I'll make you a blanket

and run you a bath

I would sit by the fire, long braid running of wood

the pot suspended and all flavor deep

turn at the ready

make my door strong

and the walls fire proof

ride out on the waters

bringing treasure of your homecoming

I have a loom to weave my hours