sweet wilderness wind

let me sleep in the cleft of your old body
where the sticks and stones will bruise my bones
and the sun will find me between each shadow

it’s where I want to be
it’s the end that I wrote to my story
there where the sagebrush blooms
where the wild horses kick up the prairie dust
and where you’ll find me one day dying

oh come to me sweet wilderness wind
collect your scents and thirsty words
there is no other life for me

no more the traveller I
the poet wanderer no
I’m tired yes
I’m lost and
long grown weary of searching

I lay myself down
stretch myself out
close my tired eyes
pretend I’m comfortable
when all along comfort is no reward
for a sinner

oh come to me sweet wilderness wind
collect your scents and thirsty words
there is no other life for me

 

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