• By Rudy Rios

Effortless winds calmly push stubborn dust storms
Across barren iron rails leaves gallop some small
Children’s laughter heard from adults with a dog.
Wolf wolf he said, something about the sharp rocks
On tender older paws.

Wrock wrock wrock wrock the bantering cry.
Ravens swim in effortless winds, wondering
The younger man scampers the loose fill.
She watches with hoping eyes, that treasure.
Wrock wrock, I’m leaving now.
Seems the bakery is throwing out week old morsels.

Holes tell a tale of violent expansions.
Splintered waves left tossed like toothpicks.
Limber remains here as a solid mass.
What is this reflection of when the edges touch?
Felt tender from the cut of the raw edge.

If I could just climb the edge, the ego would
Transcend all limits. Cut like thick cords of old wood.
A bucket gives the value of productive consequence.
Solitude a busy reminder dates leave no room
Long time for a rotten animal to remain.

Last minute stops
The train is callin
Not here today.
The dirt road.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , by Miriam Sagan. Bookmark the permalink.

About Miriam Sagan

I'm blogging about poetry, land art, haiku, women artists, road trips, and Baba Yaga at Miriam's Well (https://miriamswell.wordpress.com). The well is ALWAYS looking to publish poetry on our themes, sudden fiction, and guest bloggers and musers.

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