triptych

tangletown dreaming
arterial roots weaving
entwined, your eyes
chipped onyx flecked
and flint in the corners
windows wide and riding
the tall beasts fell
to that old beat howl
all mouths gaping at
how beautiful you are

No. How could you possibly
understand? You would need
the books and coin-covered
eyes to see. Crossing that river
that seems a stream and, if you
do, you could never look back.

you look skies, but
some say prayers
over a sea of sand
in cities of dust
come the ash driven
like the snow

while i say mine