Zest Lit Issue 2, October 2013 - Page 213

A Fibrous Current | Charles Thielman

We sit, awaiting starlight, eastern horizon

jack-booted into a waltz of hungers,

crusade, jihad, jihad, crusade.

A sidewinder shrugs history up a dune

as we gather wings snapped short of dream,

translating needs, wants as dusk comes on.

Talking about faith, loss of faith,

coaxing erasures from drain grates

into a fibrous current of giving and receiving

as gust blown embers sequin dusk.

We sit, awaiting starlight,

arranging mirage pieces just so,

talons of regret gone from pulse,

dusk silhouetted memories deepening

crow’s feet, smile lines,

so much to say before we exit,

walk out into the salted dark,

broke, yet trusting the sand,

barefoot, facing the undertow.