Fields of a heaven

It's the kind of field

Where you can lay down 

And feel

The blades of grass

The sunny kisses

The winter whips

And know you're stuck

On the side of a planet

That planet what made 

the heavens and the earth

Heavens upon heavens 

I would take a step off

Touch down on white puff

And leap past the frost

Stream away in goodness faith

For other planets places proverbs

To imitate

If only just to soothe a hearth

Heavy burdened with heaven words

And heaven's holy arts

Only north

Something about mist and steam is not smoke

Something about broken water spouts

Rainbowing oases in the desert

Rewinds me

And reminds me

Somewhere about beavers' dams 

Is neither business or residential

And the bee's flight is beside dancing and language

And the geese's chevron has only north

I'd sort it out

--

If I could

But I'd have only north

--

If I could

Day 1 of 30

Water beads on my skin

Almost as when it tries

To escape the body

I want to peel away certain layers

And whisk curtain airs through me

Taking with it only iron

Or only calcium

Or only water

I would watch myself crumble

Would I wash this much

If I knew my skin?

Would I fumble soap suds 

If in this body I was safe?

How about I pick certain trails

And run along the streams

Stopping only for hills of iron

And calcium

And carbon

I would watch myself stumble here

Here I tumble into the drain

Unaware of courtesy

Of permanency

Or What at all 

Is in me

Wipe your feet

I cannot hear the steps beneath my feet

I'm waiting till I hear them meet the ground

I'll sit down 

Wipe away those sounds and right back to the water

Let dungeon pool around me

Crustacean claws

Good claws

Crustacean claws

That pull and pry 

At the silk symbol 

Woven for a gratitude

But It wasn't fault 

For where rosy horns

Etch both directions

Serrations strip its mooring

And morning is already here 

As blood 

And clean white calcite

Rinsed through the brine

Fire on the lawn

Come over tonight

We'll put up fire

On our lawns

Of bon and bene

Reams of smoke

Twisting in streams 

The acrobatics of chimneys 

For the char of yesterdays

For the coke 

The black snow silence

That settles each morning

That's what it's for, you know

Though we can have our smoke

And our destructs

And the evenings spent in glows

Redder still, 

place behind eyes

Redder still,

 the sun's place on the other side of the sky

Where a sunset matters, and the sunrise only happened