Tuesday, December 06, 2005


Northern Sights

The arctic skies are drinking
tears tonight,
my old Kentucky home,
and we are hammered
by the stillness,
by the nails of meadow
grass and oak saloons;
I love that taste
of whiskey-sacred
eelgrass, trinity
and close to Pennacook
New Hampshire where
I dreamt the turnpike
supernatural island,
fluorescent exit,
ghost deposit saving soul,
and alone.

~Son Rivers 2005

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