Homesteaders

jo'b

Our windows have been broken out                    

For nearly forty years                    

The wind blows through us                    

And the snow slants in                    

Each winter colder than the last                   

We don't need a forecast                   

Yet some of us stay on                   

Anchored by sunsets and ashes                   

Om

jo'b

  Out of black crowns

  Harmonics rising

  The vibrating moon

  Sanguine and whole

  Struck like a tuning fork

  An old man in shadow

  Tries to get it down

  Waning in indigo.

  

When

jo'b

Then walk the beach at sunrise

Wounded soul

Where there is no sea