Light crests and wanes
swift
speed flicker
moon unsure.
Skin swells then thins
with heat
wind
destiny.
Radio blackout.
Alone
I think I
Touched
God.

Who was it carved these lines
In ancient hand
Faded now
By sand and wind
And patient Time?

Whose voice on chiseled stone
calls on to us
Covered now
With mossy virtues
Lost,  unknown?

Should I now in my crewel
of saddened heart
And remorse
Add a stitch
Of love eschewed?

Should I wield stick and stone
And worry down
into this rock
My ****** tale
Of love unknown?

And ages hence, some thousand years
when this creekbed
sits up high
Will some fellow
read my tears?

No.  I will let my fingers roam
these runic forms
Singing loud
The loss we shared
Beside this stone.

How sweet that an unwritten face
kisses me on this last hour
of Now before the
Not Now of tomorrow.

Across the wind of Einstein's count
And upon hopeful pigeon's wing
I kiss you back
And wish you happy sun.

It's not about the rhyme
but the time spent
bending the words
to fit
you
You fit
To the words, bending
Spent time.
To rhyme?

I woke up today.
Yay!

Ride high on your
Blue horses
into Into.

I don't mean that.

Fix the hole I have
In my blue wall

I have no wall.

Scream happy no sound
here in the gallery

(Look!  You got a wall!)