I see the light
in the corner of my window
before it morphs
Into the face of Hades

Death will guide my breathing
into this open space
and drown any meaning
Of air and it’s grace

I will see beyond all
that explorers have yearned
and the city heads tremble
Forlorn

For the street dusting folk
have accepted this fate
long before they were born
And will sing at the face of Dawn

When the sea reaches down
to take my hand
and sing me a cry
So foreign

I’ll remember that sleep
is no different from waking
and I’ll wait with no hurry
No claim

And we will soar
through the fires and
hailstone histories of man
Spit oil and embers on brand

For smoke becomes smoke
And poison becomes poison
And our bones a lovely crown
for our children