PRE-POETRY

May 31, 2017

Foraging is one way we fauna

Have found purpose in all this breathing

We’ll search, and trust that sustenance

Will surface to topsoil in time for reverence

.

.

.

 

 

(unfinished)

…but from here; a boxed baggage bin,

in whatever vessel burning

Point on  into blank, frigid forths.

Andever vexed in yearning.

 

Blind Pilgrims; taxed temporal things

Kinshipbourne, trapped, as my fathers.

Captive on this  course, We’re  bound to be,

Forlorn,  for treks  on farther.

 

 

 

 

 from many years ago, for  Daddy

 

 

“For we are strangers before thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers, our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding”           -Bible, 1 Chronicles 29:15