Driving

 Took a big step when i drove the hour drive home today from Williston. 

The Love of God

 It was good to attend the Williston Church of God and see old friends. 

Theron’s thalo

 So still on the Suwannee tonight 

at White Springs

I could hear the brush strokes of Theron

Dipping and stirring

tannic with sand

Blending them

Downstream

Nikki too

 Billy too

by john clare

she gave her left arm

to always be with the one

who was as a brother

not a blood brother

but a brother

and that was as good as

a brother

and i would have given

my right arm

to have had that

one night moment

of conception

and Nikki too

was my own....

Was well

 All was well-ordered

At the stately red Georgian

The peaceful path winding

But who was minding

The stranger who paused

Who saw

The raising of the hand

Announcing his presence 

Things just haven't been

The same since

All was well-ordered

at the stately red Georgian

Before the shadow stretched

Up the peaceful path winding

No one was minding.

Against the migration

 Against the migration

When we heed a call

Perchance o’er the shoulder

Behind, not always ahead

Against the head long migration

Against the wind of cliche 

Against even the natural way

The flock will chide and protest

This way

This way is best

This way we must

Yet the heed to turn compels

The call to dwell

Alone 

If need be

To find this source

That calls.

Suwannee thespian

 Emerging from the misty wood

Down to the sloping sand

To see another had left an impression

Upon me

Slowly I backed up and away

Not to disturb His writing by Suwannee.

Moon Keeper

Moon keeper

Johnclarestokes 

It’s why I’m not very good

At keeping jobs

Seems I cannot follow rules

I was simply told

To watch it set

See that it follows the route

But no

I had to spin it upon my finger

Get it all dizzy

Now the folks somewhere in China

Will think the dragon has

Come for the Ding Dong Dynasty

High Bridge

 High Bridge

John Clare Stokes

Nights late I awake to the long, long sound

Of the train whistling his high bridge crossing

High in the palisades of Kentucky

The thoroughbreds in the manicured fields

Prancing at the long, long announcing

Drawing me again to the Bluegrass heights 

Awakening in a long, long sleepless night.

One last time

 One last time 

John Clare Stokes 

By the time word arrived of Angeline's passing

Long past the drying of the aqua foam crosses laced with baby's breath and lilies 

Fading in the Mt Trial Primitive sand

The little white boy could not understand

How they quietly got Sister Donaldson to glory

So he prayed for some angels with hell to pay.

From her pomade doo a boy in Sopchoppy is running

beneath white sheets on the clothesline to hide

Chasing him out of Mrs Clara Jeans clean parsonage.

Down at Langton's IGA cries a boy for a toy

While out in Buckhorn the Mt Trial sisters shout for joy

But not the panting figure hiding in the black cemetery

For he is pleading, 

Oh once again chase me

Chase me from the clean parsonage Angeline

Chase me with your red

Butcher knife just one last time.

Women who run with wolves

 She who run with the wolves

Dances not with Kevin Costners

Women who run with wolves

Lay on sheepskin beds

She who run with wolves

Slow male wolves down

Women who run with wolves 

Usually look like dogs

When i see the blood

 When I see the blood

I never could quite grasp

This desire for the kill

Perhaps in my lost mind

I missed some basic principles

Of the blessing

I was Not Esau enough

Not possessing the proper feel

as I kneeled beside the death bed

My mother never covering me in

Venison skin

Smooth flesh not blessing 

And so I never got it

Never had the smear of blood

To cover me

A lost soul in the deer woods.