high

the world curls back.
foundations fall away
forgotten.
night bleeds out:
dawn seeps in.
oh, i'll drink the air
intoxicating like spirits in my viens.
a caged soul screams from sinew
and
soars
soars
soars
lost in the beauty of this
high.

thank goodness for concrete

here
my heart is stripped in two;
imeanitistorninhalf.
here essential,
here superfluous.
vague flowers twist up from sidewalk cracks,
while haggard cobwebs entrance me more.
there is no signage.
no,
and so,
i walk
northandsouth
and
eastandwest.
dissimilar to my elastic mind:
good thing this town is so static,
or i would be lost forever.

"I must write it all out, at any cost. Writing is thinking. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living."
Ann Morrow Lindbergh

I am Saskatchewan

I am Saskatchewan
I am tied to the land
I am heaven on fire sunsets in summer
fresh cut flax in fall
screaming winds in winter
living air sweet as syrup in spring
I am emerald lakes
diamond snows
spun gold fields
azure skies
I am morning walks down the old gravel road
noontime siestas in the last rays of sun
evening festivals on the river
midnight lights dancing across empty horizons
I am undulating hills
stretching plains
plunging valleys
untamed wildwood
I am sometimes silent
sometimes roaring
always alive
I am Saskatchewan
I am tied to the land