A road that ends in the heart of
the desert; a legion of arrows
of light - The marrow of horizon’s
softer bones, pinks and purples.

Mesquite dreams with soft smoking
edges; moth wings of morning
longing –  off into the flushed open wound

Of dawn; the rhythmic blood of our sun
Smoldering in the balmy hearts
Of those ghosts of the night; clouds, coagulating just above these sudden, silent mountains.

Th
e horizon use to be
the youth of summer’s
l
ov
e.

Now, a misunderstanding
Between night and day.

I know it for what it is, the saddest thought of all stretched out.

I’m not saying that inner peace isn’t possible |
Though it would take a strong soul to come
Home after forty years of living in the desert
And find out the bread’s stale. The stones
Cold. And I’ve been dreaming of the ocean
For four years since I left you on the island
Dashing off into the tall pines on the sound’s
Side crying with your long green eyes. Harmony
Needs to know pain. It’s this reason why
I’ve never learned to love, though I’ve tried.

Alone, alone along the shore
In these frozen moments
Like raindrops, the water laps
These petrified stones, I walk beyond
Before and between the grey
Fog, carrying something that
Can be taken; yes, I will not need this
For very much longer.

Stillness; an all-embracing hum
Of this balmy heart which can never be calmed
(This is something I wish to last)
Even this the winds of death will slow
Even these mountains of men will
Crumble. Stillness and soon the
Sun will set with ****** color, vigor.

Take only me; I laughed to the smoldering stars
Take only this sail set a long time ago;
Use it as a blanket or a robe
As you walk along the windy edges of this great shore.

Still the chicken coop
At the end of childhood still
The first snow fall soft as
Still the endless summer
Your emerald eyes, far out
At sea. And time. Leaves us
On the vine withered/broken;
Still your kisses in those misses
Out into the air off into the forest.

Beneath the intimate moon light
          Beneath the deep black night
Lay quiet and silent the ocean.
          Like a fish net hung
From the docks of eternity - draped
          among the stars.

Wave after wave the deep night tells
         Of fallowed weeds and ancient shells
Beneath the petrified moon -
         Beneath the deep black night
I walk among the strewn, I weep
         Among the wreckage of the dead.

Mesquite dreams, with soft smoking edges
Waft the darkness of this desert
          -Moth wings of the morning
Longing-
Off onto the red wound of the dawn.