Poems from willburford
dusty rags fall downat my feet swirl ash and dirt;brilliant white light
Silent elfin streams drift through and between
small hills covered in dead coastal redwood leaves,
soft and plush, my toes slide between...
Tales like foxtails pepper my mind
And I find that naked the wind hurts
But clothed not so much.
I. First-light
Eyes fly open and I light up a cigarette.
Check to see…yep, still there. I slowly unfurl
My cramped wings, the slow...