Time Will Make Things… clear.

With blood on my hands, I stand still in a field

Still like leaves growing, still like lungs breathing.

I don’t know what I’ve done. I don’t know where I’ve been.

I ask myself, “Who’s blood is this and why?”

     Before I start to cry, the clouds clear and I can see the Coyote Moon. As I stare to the stars I begin to remember.

     Stars are just lights to remind us the earth is round.

We live where we eat and we eat where we sleep. 

The blood is of my Father.