William David Maxwell

@emersynlaughs.bsky.social

Novelist, poet, lover of all things nature and a life filled with passion. 40s. All poetry posted is my original work. All rights reserved.

My steps are amongst the fields, in the soil of the ghosts of my blood. Present is both old and new, wondering and becoming. The bastion of indecision left behind as a crumbling ruin. There isn't a dark that scares me any longer. Consume what would swallow you. And thrive as a creature reborn.

A field of corn with sky and clouds above.

I've lived my days in between wandering and rabbit holes. Understanding the life lessons in the difference of area opposed to volume. How that shows in smiles and drifts in a silence held too long. I would rather coat the walls than take up space. Buried under the waves that crush the skyline.

My heart is the well to draw your summers from. My lips mouth sutras in the forest paths of my Green Man delight. Beyond the borders of proper people and dull moments. Find in me a sacral space, a bed of flowers that just left spring. Half past an Osiris awakening in bits and pieces. Whole again.