Words and Willfulness by the Wayside


Need not dwell on all that has vanished to the wayside…

all the pokes and prods…

all the worries on the doorstep.

Words and willfulness that weigh on my features.

Pen and paper missteps etched in hollow bark meant to…undo.

A drumming beat…that is not quite thunder-like.

Rhythm’s noise now…an imperfect blue funk mixed with classic hues and purposeful refrain.

A tune not a one can claim.

Divergence’s influence…small tunnels from matter to the mane. 

firing at trees
I would imagine it is difficult to stare into the woods…to see only one tree.  But then again, an     un-examined life is no small feat.

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