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You... Now!
you are... now,
the small fire built
'neath a tree in the rain,
the song of the whipporwill.
the dirty faced little girl
playing down in the barn,
the milk cow butchered
to face the winter.
the gurgle of the stream,
the whisper of branches bare.
the taste of blood
on the tip of the tongue.
the yelp of love,
the stink of hunger.
the cup held out,
and the hand that pours.
the howl of the wind,
the arch of the back.
the mouth of desire,
and the holy whore.
the long far echo
of the heart's screaming beat.
the soft falling rain,
the prayer, unanswered!
poem
by
Eric Cockrell
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