the roof of silver clouds

Sarah Moon

Come death, I will depart this valley. Not before. With death I will let go of those few things to which I still hold. Family. Home. Earth. I do not need to know what comes after, or if anything comes after. I accept it, even if it is endless darkness, endless silence. It is what it is, and I am mortal. Such is the way of all flesh. 

Yet, I live. And those things I still hold bring me comfort. Family. Home. Earth. The green pines. The owls. The sounds and sights of living. Still.

---

I died in the village. It was morning.

I died in the village, everyone came. There was a buffet.

Scorpions crawled over my eyes, into my nostrils, into my ears. Scorpions. 

The wind had a sound like music from the other side of the world. People painted their faces and danced. Monkeys screamed from the distant trees. 

Women covered my corpse with a white cloth. It might have been a tablecloth. From Walmart. It had a cheap look to it. 

I died in the village. It was morning. People were lined up at the well to get the morning water for washing and cooking. Chickens ran around in the dirt street. They pecked, as chickens do.

I died in the village. It was a Monday. I rose above my body and looked down. I could see the village, the people, all of my life. I could see what my life had been. 

Looking down, I remembered the feel of your hand on my leg, on my thigh, that look you had, your smile. 

Looking down, I remembered the feel of your lips on my skin, the taste of your mouth. Then the light grew brighterBrighterBRIGHTER and I was gone.

I died in the village.

---

Losing the ability to describe the birds, 

You become a bird. 

A Clapper Rail in the Delta, perhaps.

Feathers. Like your finest suit.

Little claws. Strong like iron, like steel.

Like your mother at her strongest.

Beak. It is at once a weapon, a tool,

And a place to put food. 

It is a kind of whistle. 

And wings. A life in flight. 

You cannot describe the birds anymore, 

It's a little sad, but you feel better 

As you bank into the wind 

And rise up to the roof of silver clouds.

James Lee Jobe

Sarah Moon

You don't have to control your thoughts. You just have to stop letting them control you. 

Dan Millman

Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people. 

Carl Jung

I think what motivates people is not great hate, but great love for other people.  

Huey P. Newton

Xia Geer

Leaving the City

It's frost-bitter cold, and late, and falling

frost traces my gaze all bottomless skies.

Smoke trails out over distant salt mines.

Snow-covered peaks slant shadows east.

Armies haunt my homeland still, and war

drums throb in this far-off place. A guest

overnight here in this river city, I return 

again to shrieking crows, my old friends.

Tu Fu, 712-770 CE

Diggie Vitt

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James