{ FREEDOM “We may want to linger, to stay, to arrest the flow and talk about it, photograph it, lyricize it. Yet this beauty is mercurial and we must let it go, for it is already slipping away to be replaced by the new.” -Stuart Sovatsky }
YELLOW FIELD OF WHEAT
Angel of Death skims blacker than tar a skeletal knock overturning bowl of oats smelling of frankincense and ashes to carry you to a yellow field of wheat where you will dance radiant waltzes haloed free
your laughter pranced across blue walls with Michael Jackson, Spider-Man and cheeky elves relishing Kentucky Fried Chicken as you played scrabble with forlorn neighbour your bony body birthing revolutions of roulette with green life and grey death
how you endured those precision needles wanting to instead drum tapered fingers on waiting desk overflowing with car sketches your thirteen year old bald head smiling veins on an enchanting spring moon as our hidden tears crystallised hospital sheets
we tried to keep up with you scoffing encyclopaedias, Dickens and muffins alike cancer like a chess game mastered chemo doctors and nurses becoming kings or pawns time in the now or endless pathos stalking Laurel and Hardy keeping our hearts unlocked
on Merlin’s star-patterned couch you will jokingly converse with Pele and his team soccer ball silent under quiescent table my ink cannot pen sad lines as I feel your lips still ******* for warm dripping milk your freedom moonwalks on a yellow field of wheat