Nobody's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

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The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Friday, October 13, 2006


I feel in my body change,
I feel changed, change-less.

Stacks of wood, chopped, but glum,
Behind brokedown houses.

I refuse.

Naked trees, like half-brothers, bare and emaciated,
Reaching tongue to cheek to hard-scrabble frozen ground.

I wrap my arms around the trunk’s bark,
I slide painstakingly deliberate to the cold earth.