nothing in the sky

shows the blue and Grey

of all our views

the very early spirit and

creation believe in the

eternal singularity

or to choose a confusion of

preposterous and wounding and

painful weight of

glamorous awake air in

the midnight hours

the cabins of the river

of your heart down below

in the fields

we shall pass with a laugh

in a similar rambling and

inconclusive way

in the perfect setting

we way fall asleep in

as we would meet a new day