Dawn in my coffee cup floweth over
in the wee hours
of my mysterious exchange.
the way i post up after midnight
with a busy midday mind,
and an apple cart-
of frenzied chrysanthemums.
i chum the waters
for last waves-
in a brush fire of
every wave

And
Like That-
I am somewhat
sane.

with all
the filigree of
a ghost

with rain bones

and too many
beautiful
names
for

" I don't Know "