the naked stand,
roots torn
from beneath the waves
has breached, travelled inland
past cities not considered,
through farmlands
beyond thresholds
of resales and rented souls
to a small town transient
of train line and transport
commuters.
where night fog
rain clean sidewalks,
the air so thick to chew
of morning dew
that
extra hour before
spring sun draws buds
from winter branches.

here, here stand
naked of past exposed
to a rich black soil
dig in
dig in
melody day
and stay, keep time
these new surrounding rhythms
of robin's song
and full breast reborn.

stay and stay
push root
beneath Bouclier Canadien rock
beneath underground lakes
leading to great ocean bottoms
and reach this sun

this is grand, this naked stand.

so it is eleven o'clock once again.
morning this time, and i sit outside,
a breather from an exciting morning of
running back and forth between four eyes
and two tripods.

children taking pictures,
getting excited,
a rare and special gift 
to see through young
perspectives,
sharing.

Shame of thought

Bear witness

These pasts after

Molded boarders

Become so high

And strong to break down

And return pure the notion

Of innocence.

We get here

To go back to sparrow chirp

Awe and

First arousal

minds  

bodies.

Encompass whole

The us

The fight to return

without confessional.