Burrows from Knell by Simon L. Eckman

There are fearsome burrows out there, aren’t there? Aren’t there?
And it ain’t known what’s within ‘em, ain’t it? Ain’t it so?
But when the denizens within ‘em aren’t there, aren’t there
Might I reach my naked hand within and feel the cool earth without fear?
Without fear

Oh mysterious ones
I saw your lantern fires a’ floating after dusk
It was me came stumbling ‘round
Your ceremonial ground
Left my mark so you’d know it been found

I wandered til the woods was deep enough for me
I heard their singing in a clearing and watched from inside a hollow tree
( A throng there was about a fire
Didn’t notice me there
They disrobed and danced and took into the air )

Leaf unfurling
Scattered eggshells
Insect molting
Bones bleached white

Snakeskin shed
Nest hole, empty
Mushroom, sprung forth
Flowers, translucent

Unmatched antler
Gold-specked chrysalis
Crushed paper hive
On paths overgrown

Fences rotting
Campfire smoldering
Cabin abandoned
Gravestone crumbling

Secrets I see, kept between earth and me
Digging by hand, I bury my secrets
In the cobwebs of roots
Where weird things gnaw
In the cool, damp darkness
From where we all have risen.

• Experimental
• Folk
• drone folk
• freak folk
• lo-fi
• noise folk
• Minnesota