Uncharted Countries

Crimson scented goodbyes lip locked, pressed against the glass in the rearview.

Calm, comas spring back to life stirring deep emotional respite a recipe of life tunes up and outward.

Along the roadside that navigates us through valleys of fractures both fresh, and long dead ruptured years that fell through the fingers covered in dried blood, now homeless, and heartless as the tempo beats back to life.

Opened bedroom doors reveal long hidden, long forgotten emotional sprites of children that used to live at home, and the ones that would visit in the spring. 

Endless days that flume in fragrant folly that litters the mountains high, and valleys low.

Resurrection pulls the heart strings alive as the dust bellows forward, and the souls sing like the out of tune chorus they were originally meant to be, lit, as flickers of life that sway in the evening pause, and the afternoon breeze. 

Formless formalities as the backs of heads slowly get smaller.

Faces bright on new horizon, uncharted chasers of waves solid, and crisp to the unknown country,