I looked beyond a bramble of miles
scoured its saunter
made black with the trails of moonlight
and pondered
...
When I look
I see a shuffling fade
a ghost of need
blurred in the rain
...
I don't know what it is.
I can't move or sit there.
Sit there and stare into the wild pantomime of my world.
There is no one there but it feels as if there is.
...
There is a waste of words
when all
is manufactured and marketed for war
nearly,
...
There was this defining color
banded but flourishing,
when I closed my eyes with my blanket,
when I saw these earthen plumes
...