Clay Heart
I swim in shallows,
Know it when I hear from you
The story, the truth
Of the deep of things,
The dusty clay heart of things.
The smell of the dung
Of the mule who kicked
Her face is still strong and good.
Yet I shrink from it.
Written December 13, 2008 10:10 AM
First posted March 21, 2009
Song of the Mountains is a show on public television that broadcasts around here at three in the morning. I am up at that time quite often. The music is wonderful. Thanks to this strange world I live in, that I find my comfort where I can.
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.