no man

this is the start of something small.

wrapped by a layer of warm

air and the rumple of cloud 

and black.  in the blue of

milky way night just where

pools of bright myths of

old starlight fall.  fabled labors

and high moments fade to

a trace of scar barely drawn,

it was fresh years ago.  the skin

is grained, a map of time etched

long and deep.  the myths are

enough to glow inside the shadows.

 

./