Basket Maker

will you walk barefoot
through the tallest of tall
late summer prairie grasses
weave a gilded and open cradle
lay your autumnal treasure
store-up your bounty

harvest with generous hands
distribute warmth through the lean frigid

Basket maker ...

will you pluck by the stem
long roses and harvest the thorns
tempt the unaware masses with fallen petals
craft a sharp crown to adorn a wicker man
sacrifice in flames the separated other
to satisfy the cruel arctic spirits
hide charred remains with a sleight of perspective
pray with bloodied hands to outlast the winter

Basket maker ...

will you ignore the organic
mine and scrounge hoary ores
cache-up coppered twisted ties

for a basket ...
substitute a cable-mesh bushel

wire a world of the non-material
insist nature is but a matrix
the chill …
only a filament glitch
in a non-nucleated mind

Basket-maker …
how will weave your existence

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