West of Jacksonville
West of Jacksonville on I-72 there he was,
In woody cover near the on ramp.
Peering out from the edge at midday,
Cautious coyotee studying the world.
Traffic speeding past,
Goes unnoticed.
Wildness in our midst,
Just an observation away.
Wild parts within,
On the fringe of consciousness.
Lurking for opportunities,
To surface and hunt.
Places of passion repressed,
Eruption of love expressed.
Restraints removed,
What's dead resurrected.
Fully alive,
Fringes of me welcomed.
Integration of being,
Washed in love and flooded with peace.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
West of Jacksonville
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