Permafrost

Do I have to tell
all, reveal every crack
in the cosmic egg?
Do we not find peace
in between the toes of stones
laid to rest askew?

I would scratch your itch
if you would tell me the truth
of your windblown hair.
I would sing with you
as we traverse the rubble,
the rough ice bound ground.

‎January ‎24, ‎2011 4:41 PM