Monday, July 17, 2006

"Gut"

I sometimes think
I'm just a length of gut
designed to digest
time, to process
the future into the past
here at the point
of the present, to suck
nutrients -- the curve
of a ripened peach,
the whisper of owl's wings,
your lips' heat --
that will sustain life.
If so, I'm not
really efficient, as seeds
pass through to burst
their husks, root
in the residual compost,
and bear their darker
fruit that casts its shadows
across the harvest yet
to come.

8 Comments:

Blogger dick jones said...

Excellent - a controlled & dispassionate piece of self-analysis.

12:55 AM  
Blogger Hedgie said...

Thanks very much; I appreciate the comments.

6:59 AM  
Blogger Rus Bowden said...

Enjoyed.

9:20 PM  
Blogger Hedgie said...

Thanks; glad you did.

9:47 PM  
Blogger Plus Ultra said...

'the curve of a ripened peach, the whisper of owl's wings' ...like the sounds of silence ...imagery that makes me hear you so clearly, excellent...can I link?

3:55 PM  
Blogger Hedgie said...

Thanks; glad you enjoyed. Yes, by all means -- link if you wish. Thanks again.

5:18 AM  
Blogger Paula said...

You have been creating excellent pieces of self-exploration, Howard.

10:18 AM  
Blogger Hedgie said...

Thanks, wings; I'm afraid after 3.5 months, though, I'm at least temporarily pooped out.

11:46 AM  

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