Into The Beyond

I no longer notice the pasture fence.
The morning sun illuminates the white horse.
The breeze carries song snippets.

A hollyhock bloom chewed and swallowed
provides strange clarity.
My body’s edges fail to retain definition.

Fragments of reprieve.
A broken butterfly on the ground.
One wing perfect.

Clear sky shudders its lack of rain.
A muted promise.
A dry expressionless blue.

The white horse takes a carrot from my hand.
Relaxed meditative inertia.
A second carrot. No sticks.

Beyond the sky. Invisible.
Planets spin their courses and trajectories.
Sunna’s hold on them unbreakable.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Folk Festival

A butterfly flutters
one wing jammed
under the windshield wiper,
which eventually tears
and slides its body
over the safety glass
and the car roof
to become
a blotch of color
on the black asphalt
spotted by hitchhikers
traversing the shoulder
on their way
up the mountain
to consume
various nectars
and batted eyelashes.

copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney