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Blood Mediation in Transit<br />
Funny how distance, literally the expanse of space,<br />
rewrites<br />
Across thick tufts of forested pine –<br />
over rolling clover hills – down roiling rivers –<br />
piercing the crop circles –<br />
into the scaling weathered crags<br />
Signs of settlement, revising staid provisions<br />
Forlorn entrenchment,<br />
sewn within the seeds of static form forgiveness,<br />
envisioned through hues well-played and pleasing<br />
Quiet deference into<br />
the libelous architecture of this moment<br />
Gestures incremental, still as they are in sync<br />
Telegraphed,<br />
written as instruction, red ink on crusting skin<br />
crinkled and retreating, across a range of secular motion<br />
Eyes opened, into an emergent dissent, despondent,<br />
‘cross oft-severed planes<br />
Yet the distance, pulling as a rope from atop the well,<br />
arrested,<br />
reeling in begotten ages, or clinched conviction<br />
Clichéd, ill-spoken half-truths, arrangements of discomfort,<br />
gleaned from an array of like-moments,<br />
scattered about the calendar<br />
A knowing glance, submission or acknowledgement<br />
Life in arrears,<br />
repaid through the subtext of ransom or engagement,<br />
reminded by the simple pilgrimage across<br />
the vagaries of one lying in wait, the weight<br />
hunkering down with a darkening presence<br />
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