In the Height of Heaven Stones

by kaminskiwriting

I’m going to grow my hair long
while I’m young and living.
I’ll drive fast
around and round the sorry continent—
Across forgotten lands
I’ll drive with windows down.

You were in the passenger seat
laughing or maybe crying,
I never knew with you.
I only knew the wisps
of your hair in my face;
the smell of your drugstore shampoo.
Your golden skin
and the sweat we made.

I shouted into endless
highway distance
when you left.
Unheard,
a ghost on the road,
I wandered off every exit
memorizing the face of distant godmade cathedrals.
I’ll climb their summits
with every tribulation of the spirit–
Crying out for mercy and more strength.

I’ll stand, or maybe sit,
looking out and back
to where I came from and how.
And in the height
of heaven stones
the wind will toss and pull
the hair I grew long
in my youth and life.

I’ll laugh so loud on that peak
you’ll hear me somewhere
on your own mountain.
Satisfied we’ll leave
to find one another
on some new crest.
Our bodies blending into
some godmade life.
I’ll breathe you in the mountain.

After long days I’ll lay in your bed.
You’ll run your fingers through my long grey hair—
mine through yours.
We’ll both know where we’ve been.
And I’ll love you with every ease of the spirit.

_ Kevin Kaminski 2012

Advertisements