She's an alphabet artist
she paints in words,

from a palette of adjectives,
nouns and verbs,

the landscape she finds
in the folds of her mind

she exhibits in volumes of verse.

She continues
her struggle
of keeping them in
but they're
starting to bubble
up over the rim
of the dam
when it breaks
the flooding
will make
such a wonderful place
to swim.

In the eternal dark depths of night,
A single match struck and held aloft
For someone lost and alone,
Can burn as bright as a forest fire.

At the end
of the path
to the top
of the hill
through cloud
and the crowds
coming down
from it still
to the
twinkling stars
lit by
neon below
in the dusk
as a rust
coloured moon
says 'hello'
and rests
on his back
reflecting
with me
at the end
of the path
on the world
we both see.