We met Kyle at Garth’s
They were close in age
But more like father and son
To see him you had to look up
Passed the boulders behind peacocks
And roosters tucked away
So the mountain lions couldn’t find them
Pulling to the center of a drum
He’s probably watching a movie
Or something but where does truth begin?
Like when a lightning bolt strikes sand
Bone and coral make up Earth’s gravel lots
After poachers march on
Take the baking soda back to where it
Belongs because it too has a place here
And if you drink tea of this plant you know
Whether or not magnets even work
In water Ancient instruments made custom
From PVC pipe and fiberglass pulse
With the lava flowing beneath my feet
Pianos wrapped in plastic drift into dreams
And more dreams and it’s dark now
And every star is moving closer asking
If it’s the right time to press down and
Pull apart rock to reveal Truth’s end
If we haven’t met before
We have now
So follow me to the edge
And you’ll hear what’s been calling
All along
*originally published by The Horizon Magazine (2023)