Smoking Drafting Yard

I.

A matter of frank time
for noble clefs and pitches
to fall under the leader
A song of the matchless
sober endorsements for parental appraisal
the goats between sheets of skin
are out and about within
the creator’s space on earth
and the crafter’s spell on her

II.

She, my God, seems to have been silent
has let me fall under my own knees
I don’t seem to be the only one
victory was never meant for us
the victorious is never the virtuous
that is not the fable of the earth
the dirt sings richer songs than this
the soil embalmed for her touch

III.

I remember Her hand, ever so prepared
She says She is still there
Look for sight, look for shining soliloquy
fortitude is the dismissal of self
like a young singer who forgets her song
we will always hear that we are often wrong
forging memories like soil under our feet
apart from the summer of extreme mistrust