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DaggerFahl

ere the dream weighing heavy
we drag the stones in candle lit tombs
on wagons like thrones

cathedrals on mutton and mead
and in the morning washed with the
thin light like a supple soup
we bathe in stone cold rivers
the dust like ghosts we shed

laughing or in stillness while the
sheep stir and the sheperds ease
eyes on the gold of a sunrise

the wolves away for starlight ventures
and the masons in their aprons talc
fingered on blueprints to scaffolds
that would make Babel proud

Sup in light for a shift when dreamers
dream...and drink the bitter root herbs
that ease the age
fall into realms with damp hair
and smokey love pressed up on a
ragged flank

my callouses cupping the ribs beneath
homespun sleeping linens
and the fire crackling

Editing stage: 

Comments

with my hair and beard...Ive been seeking cave man
images...and come up with much on Internets driven engine soul..
everything and Ive been there....digging stones for walls
and splitting wood by hand...the masons helper and factory
sub contract help in the bowels of machinery run by men of
skill..climbed chimneys for a sweep and dug sweet mud
and climbed poles where Ravens watch beyond the cable
beyond the high test wire.......and now craft cottage era plaster
for limb devices to help others get about...An artisan..
But I dream and of my readings Im there....building monuments
in island landscapes.......

If I went back i could do it!!! If I went ahead I would learn
....and here.....here I just am....

author comment

Superb, i thought this was excellent from start to finish. Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

Yes there age recaptured. roughness, rehewn

brilliant x

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