Demands & Beauty Mourning Bounty / spread & the corruption of the data of my myth. Only / breakfast. A point of view. You are the window. // I stare out of the window at the meaning / of words. A flicker of possession. That shadow of the blinds. A wandering stray. All lonesome / I sent. This wisdom I believe this vision to be / a harbinger of goodness. Flight & stride / & enter this being isn’t it // somewhat random. That robin & a worm. // A way of love I was taught. Call it / calling. Press an egg. Sip your coffee. Given time. / Hurdle fate. Some days / back I was the forgetfulness of change. Call me credence. Hop the dirt. Set a timer. Look again. / Call me / motion. Raise the level. Bed the show. No, not that. That’s a street. Drive faster. If only it was I / was the forgetfulness of order. If only it was / I was every cloud breaking a new path. This actual. // Incomplete. It’s attention. That language tantamount to claim: this really it's a wholeness. Slow down. Like the leaf stays put & the wind is only as rough as it needs to be today / & that’s enough. Like a plot makes life & it's water moving & enough is the name of this path’s crescendo. Call redemption. Kick back. Drink drink. Slip some way // a desert prism. Slip some crisp way / some shudder of wonder. Clearly tired this early. To even know who would, then again. The morning / after the corruption of the data of my myth
R. Sam Ross is a poet/writer living in the Piedmont region of North Carolina. He has a B.A. in American Studies & works at a bookstore.