Where I’ll Sleep


I want to be buried surrounded by the fields of my youth … next to other kindred souls who decided to lie in similar peace on that grassy knoll sheltered by a giant oak,  it’s limbs spread wide to shield us … it’s roots embracing our boxed homes,

cradling us in our

sleep …

distant from the hub-bub of life … too far away for casual visitors with plastic flowers …

our serenity only slightly disturbed

by the occasional car rushing by …

the sound of tires rolling fast …

metal barreling through thick air

rising from summer heat

when corn silk and yellow seedlings …

trees and grass all join in

the dance of life …

thrusting higher and higher

towards the sun …

the same as my neighbors

when they produced seed,

multiplied, then passed on …

leaving  tiny bits of themselves behind

to prove there’s life

after …


in the stillness of winter’s coldest clear night … i’ll rise from within the Earth to

glide on moon’s rays …

the wind my flesh …

the air my breath …

the stars my sight …

the oak tree above …

my haven …

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  1. dougstuber


    Her heart, while sticking tongue out,
    leads a sheltered life,
    doesn’t drink, nor dance,
    Norfolk, it’s in her dreams.

    Shocked by lack of fidelity,
    still pure, as she has never…
    though the thought comes:
    Now free, pretty and young.

    Brother nudges open eyes,
    Confucian box blown open.
    Evident culture gap,
    yet she jumps his way.

    Cosmic bonding creates a further
    life, tantric self-love springs to
    relaxed life, freedom to be, to
    elongate burdensome boundaries.

    Will she head back to marry,
    deny uncoiling life, to prove
    obedience? Dry flowers yield,
    break mid-air as she walks.


    1. Kurt Struble

      to her doom …

      thanks, interesting, appreciate it … ks


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