Treasure Island

Joseph Narusiewicz

(9/29/50 / So St Paul, Minnesota)

Her Leather Mountains


Bramble weeds, the wind
Your mind slides like a balmy pond
Wood bowls in a cool stone abode
Bread on the table
We stare at the candles of oblivion
Visitors of the knife moon
Coyotes without rain
We are the desert stars
Wagon wheels in the dust
Spurs and gun belts

I cling to her tragic dreams
Padre please hear my confession
Sombrero with a blue bullet
Crows and a hanging rope
Abandon goldmines
Silver broken teeth
You kiss me like rawhide
The gait of an appaloosa
Cactus go forever
Spanish guitars by the fire

Her leather mountains surround me

Submitted: Saturday, August 24, 2013
Edited: Monday, August 26, 2013

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