waiting on the harvest

my blanched bones

are crumbling

in the soil

of my garden

beneath

the lavender

and thyme.

my heart has

satisfied its

open rebellion.

i have danced

with rolling

thunder,

and kissed

the lips

of a crescent

moon.

i drink from

a deeper well.

malignant spirits

cannot disturb

my rest.

i am not

distressed by

the dead

of night.

there is

no need

on this road

of roses,

all radiant red.

birds are singing

hosanna

to the trees.

my dogs run

for nothing,

i chase them

in their game.

this is where

my love is sown.

he is the

caretaker of

my seed.

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