the tree root folk songs

[soulful_tiger]

you're propped like a twining
tree root smiling in an inside-out way
soft lines of your face
exposed

I'm sort of pleased deep inside like a furnace
of crushed leaves and coal fire in autumn
fed with burning cinnamon
cider smoke smoking
black holes in burnt paper cutout sparrows
black red wine stains in the carpet

but my skin is cold
like a bucket of snow

uneven banjos and harmonicas
twanging in the dim light bulb light
summer end of evening
harbinger of airplanes and heat