Secret Histories

The sky above the poet grinned

and a million words spilled out

begging to be caught

strung together and hung higher up

A secret hidden in plain sight

breathing with the ebb and flow of a living world

Those lights in the valley

floating in the trees and mist

that rolls slowly through the forest

searching for a strange and distant shore

Unfettered is the soul lost among giants

watching with eyes newly opened the rise and fall

the breath of long and secret histories

there for all to see

who know what it is to walk among the dead

Got the confirmation that my ballot was counted today. I miss the days when politics were boring.

Photo by Frances Gunn on Unsplash

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