The night's unfurled, horizon bleeding
Fire across the iris of the sky.
I shake my coat, as if to rest--
The moon's a weary pageant and I
Sit cross-legged, so as to reminisce,
All sulk and sideways glances and
My fingers breathe of their own accord.
But what is without limit? An unfinished thought
Or the space between graves--
The sky's a loping echo
And the evening sighs with me
But everything is fragile when we
Teeter on the edge of the promise of
Another heartbeat.
I'm spent breath and resonance and
Suddenly it seems to me
There is but one possible moment--
This frozen tumble into the infinite--  
And we're spectacular at last in
The final twilight of the near departed,
An endless reflection of the divine
With our wings cut of
Wind and our eyes cast of
Starlight.