Bladed Pens

Bladed Pens

Sitting by the river
Two hands in the dirt
On the bank’s slope
Watching trees in the breeze

Out of so many
Late nights
Ink points were
Mistaken for spears

Gold in the water glitters
Snow-melting sunspots glisten
Day rises to grace rock formations
And the great mountain’s faces

Bladed pens on staffs are tied
In forever winter forest’s stride
Moccasins protect footpads in shade
From inked paper’s unfightable fade

Roll with the presses
Open hostilities
To reclaim command
Take empires inland

Our ancestor Miller
To survive hereafter
In pressings of paper
And bladed pen drapers

Robes and scrimshaws
Hoods and fur pelts
Leather cord tethers
Mythic bird feathers

All atop robes and dusters
Lying in wait, sprawled astir
Observing changes in luster
Aware now to ambush voyagers

Tints change in tribe simulacrum
A clear mistake on the pretty painting
It’ll be fixed
With bladed pen serum

After we materialize
From hidden camp’s caning
We rise from the winter
To keep our land’s proper shading

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