Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #6                         Page 37
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Hollow Seeds Inside The Space You Left

Wind blowing makes the house do unusual things.
After a long night of drinking the walls seem to move
and dust rises out of the front range to darken the sun
so that when I hung on the front door jamb my coffee
cup curled in one gnarled hand thinking I heard her
horse coming back into the lower paddock this morning
and saw only the earth moving with the speed of wind
I wondered half asleep whoever built this home anyway
and why would I still think of her here among sagebrush
and dry things that blow away, but this morning that is
what I did, and the windows rattled, my own horse
Juanita shifted in her stall and called to the wild stallion
that last came through these parts at least a decade ago.

Everything poised for something unknown to happen
in this little plot of land where life was getting harder
and the dust was all I had to talk to as the mind woke
and I looked out toward the horizon over arid peaks
and thought I saw well maybe it was just a dust devil
coiled around the bright emergence of sun from cloud
but that morning the ground shook like never before
and the winds of time tore through me I swear I felt
connections to dreams that had no place in time, and
there was a column of fire upon the mountains rising
miles into the sky and I was blinded and the birds
fell into silence and the air glowed and I thought
of gods and devils that dance in the Superstitions
and of Spanish gold and the Lost Dutchman
coming back to search for it and pirate ships
crossing the dark void we had come from
thundering in another time and space
and I cried but nothing happened in that place,
not in that time not far northwest of Santa Fe.

  Jared Smith