Caravansary Towards Heart Poem by Warren Falcon

Oasis and cloaca,

love birds parched,

now moves caravansary

toward heart's always

winking horizons.

There are many before

the sun rises.


Perhaps my name goes

before me, my press,

Empress of Contrails,

peacocks in tow,

trailing tallies, scores,

arrivals, departures,

ejaculations, rejections,

all faces hands have held,

and yearning beyond possibility

hesitant dawn's mourning doves.