force nor fate can me displease

and we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet/
for auld wang syne
2 weeks ago
18 notes

The Target Bird: A Levee-Encamped Sky

thetargetbird:

I worked out the age of weather
x-raying its fillings — no sun
to wrap my arms around is worth
the favor: shake his hand for me.
Echo, twang, squints, claps
bent as coke bottles
to be shared, the doggone dog
gone in a flustered hint.
Son, the house is full enough,
no room for arms wrapped