Without a shielded case surround his head
The revving world would never say what’s said.
How sweet he lives beneath a clouded lie
But laughs and writes and shuts his mother’s eye.
In blackened caves and cracking creeks he’ll speak
Of God and all that shares a curious peek.
A creased lovely nose points to dragons, toads
A day he’ll know as he plugs in sharp codes.
Almond eyes search for a will to mean
Peach doors compose the thoughts and glittery sheen
Of winter. A waxing sled moves, becomes
The symbol of his wild broods, his beckoned drums.
Dear brother, know that spirits may be guides
Toward murdered praises that the earth betides.
What will he have in place of past sorrow
A heartache of untouched grace thumping through
He’ll leave beside the road curved up above
Whispered dirt and moonlit walks, cloaked to shove
The speech buried around his head, uncased
The memoir of his name, once known, erased.