Salvaged III

Inanimate

Here I am.
Do you want me to sit here?
Oil on water.
Dust on a penny.
My amber gaze pierces your lies.
As I sit on this shelf;
My stealthy vantage point.

Trees

I put my trust in trees
I know what each knot
will support my fingerhold

I know if I slip in the mud
my foot will find a root
and I will walk again

I know each branch and
bramble catches and clings
but keeps me from going too fast

I put my trust in their shadows
I will never be without
something over my head

FeverBrain
Looking through a past entry
I begin to understand my anger.
It was no more significant than
a few grains of tea
but I still
I still
decided convention was
for all but me.


I led a friend into the
wrong part of the city
we became lost
I became lost especially in
embarassment,

I hid.
Because I am sick...