The grass bends down beneath my feet accordingly, only to rise, rise again The waves break on pebbles, sand, only to crash again on distant shores Pulled back through quiet memories, the soft smoked smell of mesquite & juniper Lying in the heart of a gray metal shell, laid length-wise, molded into a mad-mans image Falling through old, tired, lives, with such innocence, clean & unburdened by life Accumulating this tiredness, begrudgingly ground down, absently tossed aside Never asking why, like beasts led to slaughter, not of flesh & bone, put principle & ideal Dreams of silver, fading into tarnished piles of rust, distorted image, mocking faded beauty Quiet nights spent in the shade of moonlight, watching the stars go down with you Dreaming of sunshine as the dew collects on our sleeping faces Awakened by the fleeting song of cardinals, staring into lattice-work clouds