deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ghost
You offer me your ghost shirt
for warmth as I stand
in permanent free fall
between the two Dippers.
I have no tears with which to weep,
they will not last beyond
the first touch of
thin air in this high place
where a tree never grew
or felt the tension of gut sinew
when I lost my eyes
staring into the sun, and
how its dried breath of
ancient rain and elk horn
has left the moon an orphan.
for warmth as I stand
in permanent free fall
between the two Dippers.
I have no tears with which to weep,
they will not last beyond
the first touch of
thin air in this high place
where a tree never grew
or felt the tension of gut sinew
when I lost my eyes
staring into the sun, and
how its dried breath of
ancient rain and elk horn
has left the moon an orphan.
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