New Post/New Poem

(c) 9.2006.

If everything blew the wind one way
you’d come back.

I’d hold up all the clouds
and let them pile up like traffic cones
in all the corners
of Hardwick’s land trust.

The meaning of your last letter
means you don’t intend
on coming home.

One day I’ll find that letter
circling like dust
rising out of a 50 foot geyser.

Everything turns to dust
in this dream.
Everything turns cold and
bare.

In the sand
beneath my window
you wrote that nothing ever
means nothing.

You meant that all the winds
stopped blowing and
you sat outside your small house
and drilled into the ground.

In the dream,
your roots turned to dust.
The winds picked you up and
posited you on the land trust.

And in the dream
you made your way home
from there.