Tags

,

I spent the morning

wrapped in words Warm

Blanketed 

In layers

Buried in feathers

Of birds

That once flew

Among

Friends 

Climbing high

Into the sky

Buoyant

On the winds
With the window

Open

The world

Entered

Fresh

Alive

And sunny

Beckoning
And from there

I created

Mixed the ingredients

a stone milled

Bread

30 sec of Wild Compassion

And 14 sec of Somewhere in America

Listening I was moved

Also to write

Not just that which inspired

But of the pain I have been feeling

Of late 

Freedom emerged

From my ears

Through my heart

And out onto the page

I mix in George Elliott Clarke and Shane Koycan 

Poets from Canada bringing 

Sweetness and crunch to this 

Concoction

The recipe is not yet

Complete 

The bread not yet in the oven

I am enjoying mixing the 

Words and clips

Enjoying the aroma emerging

Reminding me of days gone by

When my step-mom used to make her bread in Apple Juice cans

Round and ribbed they would emerge

Yet still delicious

With peanut butter and jam

By Sunday Eve

It will be complete

A masterpiece

Who knows

But good enough to eat.

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