“…in the timber
a ship of my own” ~ D. Bonta

Wood of dusky smoke,
wood that may have been

a funeral post: remnant
stained a regal black

and whittled— Folded
arms and folded knees,

stoic guardian set above
the counter where we keep

the grain. Every hard
thing has a dented heart;

every stiffened joint
green, once, in the wild.

* carved wooden granary god


In response to Via Negativa: Evening walk.


One Reply to “Bulul*”

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