August 20 by The Running Son
◐• homecoming lite •◑
The prodigal returned home and the roof blew off.
The pizza crusts and Coke-Zero of homecoming staled overnight.
Eyes zoned red: the sawing of sleep apnea
and three-alarm Ambien walkabouts.
Houses divide and collapse even on concrete slab foundations.
Sleep is coveted—a trick learned in the desert.
A trick learned in the refining climes of the desert.
The love of heavenly bodies marks a soul pure, like sand.
Love thy Father and Mother, even if sands
turn to grit and choke the bottle neck.
Love thy neighbors, if you have any left afterward.
Sleep beneath the hot air expanding into every beam and shingle.
by Jim Aldrich
.namaste. -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •- .namaste.