My life rustles.
Doubt strengthens my faith.
The knife that wounds me
strikes mostly nothing.
My glass is full of hunger.
And the eruption of distant stars.
It is easy to think wind blown trees
swat the sky with their leaves.
I discovered this old slowness.
I embraced my obsessions like a prophet.
Cultural torpedoes
sunk my ship of state in heavy waters.
There I am on turbulent seas
afloat in the lifeboat of forgiveness.
Void and expanse are not good names
for what exists between stars.
My molecules are interested in being me
for only so long, then they go.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 