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In the early morning when worlds meld

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In the early morning when worlds meld
the wide eyed night creatures fade
retreating deep into dark clay-soil
and rested souls begin to climb from the shadows
slinking across the green crust.

A faint blue glow still melting from the sky,
the world awakes, dreams are extinguished
leaving a thin stream of smoke to
blanket the town with hard work and toil

Men luring fish with frayed nets
snagging on rough hands and worn eyes
hungry from long years on burnt soil.

Among the wildflowers with red petals
listening to waves braking upon copper cliffs
cresting to be smashed.
The warm breezes stir us up
over the raw, fresh earth.
We arch our backs to the moon
Peeling ourselves from one another,
and breathing into
each others lungs.





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