where does snow end and ashes begin
where is the brook, river or creek
and where is the caged waterway beneath the barren city street
littered with poison and dread
and all things unholy
where is the oak, ancient monolith of gods
and where is the creaking telephone pole
where does the robin soar
when there is no song in the wind
and what does rain kiss
when we are burdened with mud
what does the frog call her home
when the pond is crude oil
and to whom do stars smile
when the night comes unkind

where do we dance when the sky turns to black
and where do we love when steel comes to fly

what place can hope find
in the hollowed out shells
of her children
what courage is left
in the traitorous bones
of her muse