He was a wayfaring
work of peace,
a wind traveler
–alone
(save a dog that glowed) and
tender of spirits
bottles brimming with Soul, man
~and some accumulated fluff~
flasks filled with
rain, and
tied to his belt with bows–
–bows gathered from foggy frontlines,
and a different draft to war–
he wore flasks.
Cruets—
he had
cruets.
Charmed arm bands
dripping with
tears, and stopped
(at the top)
with heart–
–hearts pinned with arrows, and
broken
(though loosed) with
Eros intent
lacking insight–
he had cruets.
Decanters of dreams—
–and some canteens…
in haversack, he carried
decanters of breathless dreams…
Darkest dreams caught by feathered
hawk
~wing without weave~
and moon missing shadow–
he carried dreams.
Skipping stone
(and ritual)
at water’s edge,
when he spoke–
rarely, since he was missing–
he sang.
©Karen Robiscoe
related: Dreamcatcher
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