Tobias Jameson
A man with a mind
And no motive
A man who made his money with his hands
But cut his hands off before the bread
Tobias Jameson
A man who sold his love to the devil in exchange for a cloak
A cloak to conceal the corruption of a soul from the city folk
Each morning he walked along the riverbank
Making smoke clouds with his cigarette
He stumbled upon a wildflower among the weeds
With his paint stained fingers
He plucked the perfectly imperfect design from the earth
He returned to his cabin deep in the cypress woods and placed the petals and roots in a jar full of water
Placing it on the table
Astonished how something so beautiful could survive among the muck and the mire
After a week or so, the wildflower died
As these things do when they have been taken from divine earth
Every day he would return to the riverbank in search of another
Finding his treasure he would pluck
For no one else could enjoy the wildflower wonder
Once the riverbank was cleared
Through winter spring summer and fall
He went in search of something else
Tobias Jameson
With whiskey on his breath and barely a drop in his glass
Caught eyes
With a green eyed gaze
Lilium Tredwell
A wildflower among the world
Surviving in the muck and the mire
He plucked her from the men and the madness
Saving her, he said
But wild things don’t survive in ordinary places
So she disappeared into the starry night sky
For wild things are fueled by the fire and the fervor and the frenzy
-Wildflower
