Friday, 26 of August of 2016

Kirk Lumpkin – The Mystery





something calls us out of our houses
toward a place of deeper shadows,
through undulating moonlit fields,
past vulture roost in eucalyptus,

where roots reach in wet black soil
and this night again we stand
by the creek that ran through childhood
where darkness is still alive,

where the waters of fear and love
snake trembling through the streambed night,
where bare limbs are antler dancers
and the stars look back with bright buck-eyes,

something rustles the underbrush,
a wind pushes back branches–
while more silently than owl wings
the dew stores up its blessings

Kirk Lumpkin
January-February 2010 Earth First!

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