August Perseid II

The summer was easier before you came
Long, languid
The same static stars
Sometimes fog shrouded
but subject to the old interpretations
true firmament
even pacing of precessing sun
and moon tides
sea funk followed by woofing caves
Then ballistic motion
Blazing unknown distance
unknown timing
held captivated on my back
Eyes sparkling
moon hidden by soft touch
revealing a sudden spill of light
I want this
I hate this, these torn hemispheres
heart filled with complicated
passion yet something so basic
and simple
precluding every other need but breath
water and warmth.
Dreams of thunderstorms and visions
of rain driving into sitka
on a wind blistered shore
As I lie on my back in crisp grass
crickets eking out summer
counting grains of chlorophyll
back into the core
the safe, strong bare maple trunk
that can survive SE gales
while nakedly failing
to interact with anything but
the wind
the stars
birds and the moon.
Clacking branches slowly amputated

I want this?


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