Of woe and photography
I love little more than neither
upon my dresser,
strewn coke and ether
I was stolen but for an instant
wiederholen ‘I am an idjit’
and it was lost before I knew it.

I searched for it
high and low
from attic shelf to basement floor
not finding as much as a drawer.

Through the open window the wind screamed
hinted me some and swindled me clean
out I ran, into forests serene
into snow and fading pines that once were green.

My eyes stalked all they could see
away in the distance - red tapestry
silken and linen, it couldn’t be!
my dresser lay waiting under a willow tree.

And quick I snapped
with bottle uncapped,
prayed to the winds
and quietly relapsed.

So now here I lay,
in a sleepless dream
upon my dresser
in forests serene.