I Did Chores Around The Cabin

All day long Paul
adopted a big horn sheep
and roamed the mountain side
with that surefooted attitude.

I mean he shape-shifted
into a ram and went up a rock face
I required climbing equipment
to ascend safely.

I possessed no worry of him
exploring his nature and boundaries
but the distant report of a rifle
quickened my heartbeat.

Paul returned in time to wash up
just before supper was served.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney


I do not need to see
your wings open to the sun
to know the cleansing breath
of your initial feathery flap,
even if all you use it for
is to regain balance.

For all of the priest’s
Jerusalem rhetoric
he fails to see or feel
your plumed curve mid-hover
above the smoldering violence
in today’s thunderous voices.

All the charting of the sky
is for naught.

Tragic storm clouds brew
unforgotten bygones
into lightning strikes
that char the earth,
rip open the grassland
and set flame
to the grounded dead
that know their ash and dust
is the basis of eternity.

copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney