Thursday, January 9, 2014

Still, on the Stone Streets

Far from Detroit
feathers that fall
the spirit returns
in resurrection waves
then with peace,
when with power
like the resonance of the smell of electric memory
forming the shapenote
of  forever
the sealed soul
and her strange new morning place
far from rubber on road
and the spilled night time gasoline,
 all still,
on the stone streets