I know what Jesus found
out in the desert-
or perhaps, what He lost

My eyes will never look at you again
at best, they pass over
like unhurried clouds on a windless day

Blooming and expanding
from nothing
churning and sliding west

Memory is just a few shocks
that take me back,
bullet holes that let
light penetrate a sealed room

Drifter you call me; but
I saw my captain's (my brother's) soul
splash and sink into the
thirsty dust

Boys marched in
and ghosts fly home,
unhurried, as clouds
in a windless sky