broken knuckles
"...my father was one of the only men i knew who used the word 'beautiful'..."
there is a man on a river side. sitting. being.
there is a candle with two wicks exposed.
there is a great light that neither understands.
there is a tree, on a hill, in a field, surrounded by eternity and blue.
and there is no one there to know it.
there is no caution, curse, nor promise from the river, which speaks without ceasing.
and the light burns brightest
at night
beneath the stones.
there is a man on a river side. sitting. being.
there is a candle with two wicks exposed.
there is a great light that neither understands.
there is a tree, on a hill, in a field, surrounded by eternity and blue.
and there is no one there to know it.
there is no caution, curse, nor promise from the river, which speaks without ceasing.
and the light burns brightest
at night
beneath the stones.