Place of Refuge

Place of Refuge

16 July 2014

The Human Animal

My mind's a mess.
Words, 50 + years of distractions, a well-
practiced self-flagellation.
It wakes me at 5:15.
By the rising sun I wrestle my own demons;
nothing is won because 
nothing is.

I turn and nestle my head against
the fur on your chest,
that well worn breast, with its
well-practiced heart.

I smell your breath, 
feel the folds of my own skin,
us as creatures in a cave; along with kin
we struggle to save
ourselves for one more day.

We, a species among many species made of
the same stuff: dogs,
cats, pigs, birds, snakes, apes and we -- 
each mutely fulfilling our own tasks to ensure
the larger harmony.  What
makes we we 
is our dexterity.  Strike
a match.
Evolution burns

The earth turns,

To this, I fall asleep, content to live
one more day.