grass shadows

and here it is still

summer.

the grass is long and the rocks are warm.

nothing's moving very quickly.

life is slowing down long enough to get to know itself.

"that shadow, my likeness, that goes to and fro,

seeking a livelihood,

chattering, chaffering,

how often i find myself standing

and looking at it where it flits,

how often i question and doubt

whether that is really me;

but in these, and among my lovers,

and carolling my songs,

o i never doubt whether that is really me."

walt whitman

oh yeah walt.

that's me in those moments of revelation,

ecstacy at the touch of a plant,

singing inside the connection over almost fourty years between me as a fourteen year old boy,

and my own fourteen year old sweetboy,

loving the little world within a world that i call home

and knowing that the digital melting of the outside inside edge of my home

is good and kind

and loving

and almost as i saw it happening

all that time ago

when i dreamed of such a place

as this.