wrapped bullets in feathers [writings]

people said they came here for blood,
but i know it was me they were after.
pitched high-up in the trees,
the gaze of the summernight owls
pierced their cotton-cased plight to reveal the real agenda

with the year’s teachings
learned now as ammunition
charged and ready to blow
i’ll hold my fire; wait in the forest canopy
to see what change may come
and what the foreigners may inspire in my heart
to put my guns to better use;
discharged, taken apart and wrapped bullets in feathers

it was she who first discovered the patterns
and that the rocks would not always stay
although the soil shifts and sands erode;
the matter had simply changed
and all need not be cast away

sparrow sings now a softer song
and sings it to the night
drifting under breath for fox; his ears are tuned
and listening for the song once heard and attracted in eyes
feared to fade, or a simple decrescendo
running luscious eyes over the curvy hips of the treble clef

sparrow saw her crystal case once broken
by some vile history or pain.
i saw the fire kept in glassed care
and care to help and feed the flame

waiting for the false winter;
damn the sun and reel me in, closer
the day, it’s hot and brave and bold
sometimes the nightfall treats it so cold
cold response to warmed gestures
keep fox under wing; to warm joys and couples sing

they came here for blood but did not know the forest was alive
and it spoke to them

“continue, but cast away frantic thoughts and stay present. your guns won’t fire here and feathered bullets will carry in the wind. give it time and you’ll see why you’re really here”

we came for blood, for love and surprise
feed the flame and the glass alive
this morning i’ll sleep in the forest
and awake to the brave day

lucas x.

past [writings] ]\\][\][][\][[[]][[/[/]/[]/////./././//././/][.][.].]].][[….],