Friday, November 02, 2007

Tangled


















like the morning sun
behind the hill, still
rising through
that broad and tender blue

you, too, return daily
a lambent light
tonguing across the
surface of a life

and seeping deep
into the weave
down where the deepest
thirsty roots cleave

to the familiar soil's
tangled tenderness —
here in the muddy roots' roil,
your star bathes darkness