the wall of the canyon

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Just edged to the canyon's wall, stopped and grounded. I had pried open the entrails of erosion behind my path; Some coppery granite that my dissection cut through clean. The flat rock was to be my podium, a triumph to sit and watch. No more marvels for me to crook my jeweled head at, Not beyond the wall of the canyon.

It stood there, back to back, feeling barren. I never held back the push and rushed for the keyhole; Peering around another level, once again blind in the lab. Where was that cane for the journey too soon ended? Long blades must be straws to these foreign grasses; Little and lost again behind the wall of the canyon.

Who would sacrifice one token of their flying carpet, To perhaps, weave by, lend sight to the cross-overs, Killed within first strike or shook and retreated. I felt you hover, scanning the wavelength of my shivers, Catching a scent of my humble flesh, crouching in the corner. It surfaced cruel here across the wall of the canyon.

You let me wear the ruffles, a tad broken and shredded, Creating new potential depth over where it flowed naturally. When you stole the crown pearl for my illness, Sent to oblivion, cast off the noble and took my hand, Under the stacks of hay -you became everything to me Appeared fateful over the wall of the canyon.

My fingers nimble upon the harp strings, softly tensioned. By the exiles of suburbia, sat to study the meaning behind your frown, Tracing the very curve of smile lines and trembling hands. Giving you the letters of my name, mouthing them silently: Banning all motivated entities of my being, stripped to basics, Feeling unquestioned away from the wall of the canyon.

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