Star Ford

Essays on lots of things since 1989.


I haven’t posted in a while, so here’s a poem:

You easily invited me into the singing meadow of your autistic mindspace.
There was never a smiling campaign to win you over – just an opening.
There were never weapons greeting me at the border – just a hello.
There was never an invasion to either block or surrender to – just a full yes.
Now remembering your sunshine from up here, I ask
If I unclutch this rock anchor
If I unhold this mountainside identity
If I stop going up this constrained ledge
If I no longer comply with this safe deceit of climbing to the future
If I discover a blue and white continuously blooming opening from this moment
and my grasp fails and I step off and let the air beside me have me
Will the unfolding present hold me?

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