Quickly gained and swiftly lost
At the mirror reflecting on myself
At a moment's cost

A poem for a dusty question
Not a country, an imagination
Teeming in the dry
You know for you it shines
But the weather gets lost
In my own mind.

Hope is an open hand


and


In leper's prison
You cannot feel the bars

I wrote a smile
Or went to, at least
But I couldn't spell happiness
With teeth.

Ahh beneath the heaven tree
We said we'd meet
Spreading branches, us beneath,
Soft pulpy lightning
Earth scented moss wicks
And the gentle flames of glossy wings
Fluttering under a lighted moon.