oakeanos

Tea-satchel, silk, flavored   Doubt your dreams, A cornerstone in a sweet-crumb building  sky-rise To lift and let lie things you aren’t   Supposed to meddle in; Burned in the ears of the dusty, Chipped red penny stains. Planes rip ribbons, spigots initiate the bend To moisten like the conductor and the tap Of three, then a movement. Still, motion forcing in with the drive Spring carries beyond Winter when Juniper ceases to stalk our gait;   Docile jostling evolves to a hammock sway Of compressed clammy fists. When the light hits your giggles I see it Ricochet to someone else. We walk down and up again, Past the

gruff of a midnight boil deep between cedarn grooves of a bugle, piddle around the fiddles and knots and roost in a Ramble to Cashel. flex the rhythm be steady row the rhythm be soft howl from a tumbling mound high hopes in musk lullabies blanketing a peppered shepherd and horn, nestled fog on the lowlands of scotch and holly. clench the steady rhythm ore through rhythm culled in spite.