Sunday, March 7, 2010

hey you, get a grip

the crooked boards feel like home on these tender feet.


it's been a winter for the books,
what i'm really saying is (jesus, get to the point)
it's been far too long.

i'm ready to walk face first into the sun

-one two unbuckle my shoes and
let me step out onto the stones
warmed by promise and breath;

gash the soles of my feet on hope and
let me hold my warm blood in these hands
cracked open and ready to heal.


this arrow has lived forever
rolled up in a ball of mud
created by me, for me.


These fields break my heart -
reminds me of days with dads
and counting phone poles
for fun.


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