Don't Change Plans

Don't change plans.
Your cousin holds a swifty knife to the heart.
Swifty talent, holds a sword up and down:

"Don't smile if the sky falls down."

You walked through the woods.
Darken paths, the water was fresh.
At your roots you smiled and said:

"Can you help me now?
I have waited for winter.
I smiled when it came and gave my bread away."

St. Louis out of breath, the words were said.

"Truly?"

"I don't need to say it again"


You will.

To make the story short
we crossed rivers of sand
And your cousin managed to wade through our lane.

Had the devil's eyes, with a sword.
but I didn't back my word:
"If money makes you happy, -here--"

Cousin put an end to it, as he backed up from our lane.
But the end is far from near.

My affection will last today-
if not forever,
and will not
be
pulled
up
by

a stranger.
Who renders

his sacred stones
up to plain view.

Don't change plans.
Even if the birds have been whitened from the grave.

Erased.


On a bleachy well-to-do Sunday.