Following the scent of impermanence

the waking dream of the death cap

and the dull edge of the obsidian arrow head

carved on my grandmothers birthday

they are memories stored in my sweat

I can taste it…

hot and salty, like the ocean where I come from

a map through time

is writing itself in my minds eye

so we walk

one foot in front of the other

finding density in desolate caves

singing one song a thousand ways

as we nurse from Earths percolations

the rocks scream into a golden expanse

and black wings catch the currents

flesh, vanishing

nothing here is innocent

flesh, returning

the circle of life consumes me

memories stored in each empty milky oat pod

hissing in the wind

I hear symphonies through the pine needles

like hot medicine in my scabbed throat

vulnerability lays the foundation

of the safe shelter

cloaked in the ancient story

of impermanence