distance

How far can you walk into the woods
on the half margin you walk out of the woods...


see this thicket of problems recede
to straggling trees,

the here and there of a wild root grown across the path...

but light at last

canopy open to the sun
filtering through dancing dust
a dance in gravitational must
a please
a complete and intended lack of looking

and complete intended rhythm shaking in soft bending curves of leaves...
wooded road mardi gras'd beads on hippies with mushroomed impressions of party-pooping me..
those who thought they were wild on the forests exit steps...
as i walk my feet into their distance...

away from their entrance to the forest...

everything smells dirty
and i miss the rivers head
over mine under water breathing thought and composure
in the wrist of the rivers pull