barfoot bones

     a silent sleeping hand pillowed the right side stone

     holding the grip of parrallels between an inside out world

     where paths of victory walk within the footstep treads

     holding every imprint as it balanced the brave golden bread

     before the last covenant became obsolete testament walks

     the dreaming stone artist turned mason dry mortar lucid

     waving tools to the rules and expectations of corporeal captains

     leaning within the tree shade rest to eventual laying in the nest

     careening off the road for a chance to play his mandolin at best

     or to break pencil shard poems like a blue ribbon fly line snap

     where a faithful test is painful to reach without a few questions

     a foundation of stone faced into the replaced spoken toungue 

     I couldn't help but cry into the mud as it hardened equally tight

     the salt fabric sigh kept a roadtrip from losing the line in sight

     so my guest would keep her song deep within barefoot bones

     a silent sleeping hand pillowed the right side stones