...You've been climbing that tree
for quite a time now
You're wounds were healed
scars
concealed by
intoxicating arrogance
and I
see you up there enjoying
elevated by the wind as it gets
inside your head
You
remind me of writers of
golden tongues and
golden pens who
never wanted anything
but to climb that tree
whenever the storm gathered
While poets
walk with the dead
enjoying
the vastness of the
field...