(Untitled)

[shutupimtalking]

On The Lost Valley Trail

God said, with white bags of stones on a hillside,

‘I was dropped from the sky by ‘copters,’

or was that the man, whose red-eyed sadness,

wet with mountain mist, spoke when we asked about

the distance ahead?

No, God spoke from the white-wash spring over moss stones,

‘Can you see me now?’ the deafening sound

of watercrashrock…

Comments

[budge]

i hate you.