Quietly Sleeping Embers
the materials of timeless elements
that once laid deep within the earth,
as sleeping embers in a quiet fire,
or the thumping of rocks, their throaty shouts,
attracted to the source, protean,
the standard of all things apocryphally edged,
eyes in search of themselves, flashing
visions in search of hallucinations, sighing.
lateral unitities scrape the tattered and
the buttressed scaffolds in dimension,
as a formican stave appears sage-like, alone
at it’s cusp, pointing towards inevitability.
our hands are lined with our history, concealed,
our hearts deeply gouged, bleed coloradan stain,
whimper as they will, feeble outcomes fail
the test, it’s standards not presently contained.
the harbinger of listless souls, tearless
and gut-wrenched, gesticulating, wordless,
those materials, that source of satiety trembles,
those quietly sleeping embers, light even the world.
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