Sunday, January 03, 2010

shell to toe

we rustled through rusty nails
seeking out unnecessary luxuries

to trade at snow covered posts
by the ice hardened hands of miners

spending their lives with quartz
and broad shouldered women

working until death or Sunday night
spent drinking hot beer

at hand carved bars in the south end
of the conifer forests of the north

but all we could find was burlap
and a small pile of turtle bones

1 comment:

Gerry Boyd said...

nice crisp language. enjoyed this. thanks.