buffalo head cloud
rawhide drums
saline rollers at tantalus cross
ominous light
forms a short mile away
head lice
and peckers
tap the metal track

shovel train pings
the night quiet
moonlight
shines in
geometric form
arches and skiddles
and skirting reflections
(a vast connection of
grand design)

7 horns
at the passing
(oh that cold metal joy!)
stirring the blades
and ground cover
you better not turn old friend
just nod,
and cut what you need

it’s a bitter run
on the winter line
(with the finest
of wheels
and runners)
hold tight
on the pulley
the canyon wires
are clipping

there’s a gateway
to the copper town
with a key held
by coveted few
you can spot the
riders in their
box cars
watching closely
at the chunnel’s
dark turn

we’d walk
the lines often
(and put an ear to the ground)
the mine town still
and barren
hidden treasures
and pocket *******
settled deep
in a tranquil, stolid place

it's all in the gnomes on your lawn
that draws me baby
not your curves
not those curls on your naked shoulder
or your poems
not the way you slide up to me
like some kind of fine woman
just those gnomes
I like your gnomes
baby

Around the old pillar we used to dance,
         I gaze at its worn face.
Is it odd I sit in a trance,
            picking my mind with a turn of fate?

"Take my hand and dance with me!"
your ghost whispers oon the wind.
the trees move and softly sing,
illuminated grass bows and bends.

Stars fill the violet sky like a projection,
I smile at the haunting voice,
"But you are my memories' reflection"
I chuckle and rejoice!

no clouds swim
in the waters of the sun
I'll go on a whim
I am the only one.

Carpe Diem