canto; in a summers sleep
singing solstice
out of key
forming memories of cluster
in constant stream of deluge
crowding all who shadow stern release;
behind the shrine
bending with a willow on the vine
stands erect
our purpose green
belly-full
darker than the black rose of a song;
above the all
no summer ever long enough
to curtain ties of heat to a frozen sprog;
this earth and all who dare to dwell within
tradition now a blur on tainted skin.
lilac gold
now colder than the knuckles of a face
staring down
from a chimneys smoke in the twilight of it\'s youth
bitter sweet
aging with the sugar on it\'s spine;
where goes
so shall I follow
a hunchback to the garden
where meets old flames as once we were
two dust-bowls desert bound
me, her horse
she, my lizards tongue of crepe de fleur;