heavy wind

cold rain

and yes, the stars

and yes, these hands of mine

a dream in my chest is molting

my dream sheds its muddy thunder-stained skin

and asks for a heart of sunflower fields this time

and the nights get heavy

like they always do

I am older which means

when I think of forests I get stuck

not on the robin eggs

but on the fox teeth

in my head I am hunting for myself

but I come up empty again

the night grows so wide it could be a cavern

and I am somewhere underneath it, inside it, lost

but travelers always leave lanterns behind

and as I feel for the candle  

there arrives a memory of bronze colored light

so I dream

I dream

I keep dreaming

one word in my mouth crystallizes like sugar

hope