Wide Ways

a poem about moles and holes

Doors are open
widers than the wind
blows holes and gaps
and tap, tap, tap -- 

did you even knock
me down,
off my throne
around like a mole
in a hole

not knowing
where to go,
get on your knees and
god sees you,
heals you

tickle squeals you
then life just keeps on
living as we always did
but knobs seem brighter
and turning around
got groovier

and the mole ate up
some fleety bugs,
we were nourished and
fed well
through open wide doors.