true do what we need
its a car breathing fumes
awakening upward
chorus of the northen lights
if all called were new dreams
by and by
and I speak with vapors
fire flighting downward perhaps
you can join next visit to
the raid


put your head in the rage
numbing only to the wishing well
in corner pockets bearing honey bees
there wasn't any more to win
other than the wedded love
of your freckled focus
and father died
in a golden ring