seeds

On every breath
a curl of smoke,
evaporating voices
in the settling
blanket of darkness...

engines run
shoulder jostling
to and fro,
shoulder to shoulder
should we all fall?
Will it be into
the same place
or different for all?
Will it be filled
with songs and seed,
something we should plant
in every fallow field?

then the winds come
over the hill,
soil blown away by
clouds slithering across
champagne colored skies,
halfway between heaven
and earth, with its ice covered
lives spliting into
atoms mirroring in
the disappearing snow.