How
could
I find
my way
between
the sonorous
splendour of

my boyhood song
and the acerbic tang

of fruits
of desecration
plucked
among
leaves of
acacia sand

with waves
of sorrow merging
into wailing tides –

how could I
find veracity
along
the sadness
of streams
and meadows

that tumbled
down through
mountains
and valleys
of my book
of stories –

how could
I ever walk
starlight waters
that flooded
from heaven

and sip
grapefruit slices of
wandering comets
formed from frozen
tears –

with arms
outstretched
across galaxies
how could

I feel feet
r...

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