In the great primordial ocean
the tides of your mind
find stillness
Returned from the edge with wings widespread
running jagged up the cliff
like birds in flight
A clear cut of liquid, green and black
predators with unblinking
eyes
Exalted in the rush of the first hit of green sticky
the wind on the garage door
like the sound of shadows
Newport reds and no hope, only the black things
in the dark, dates and
water