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t u n g u s k a

blood runs
the nickel guns

creek fed dreams
slip
through whiskey amber alms

choked visions in deisel city buses
and bright cathedral rules at sundown

poplars and moonlight
cedars and wolves

there are casks of mortal
sins sleeping
in the cool cellars

the touch of
clarity
on working girl hands

cheap tobacco
and bitter skies

the clouds are wounded
on the dusks bruise
and I want to kiss
your scars in the
sancity of your room

votive fire
and the burnished
scent
of this desire

..

Editing stage: 

Comments

your work is hard to critique. I do get very vivid pictures from the words you put to paper.
My favorite lines in this one are:

creek fed dreams
slip
through whiskey amber alms

and....

there are casks of mortal
sins sleeping
in the cool cellars

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