The First Visit
The Second
Skyscraper towers of rock silhouette the sunset sky
The evening star pokes a hole in the imminent darkness,
A promise that morning will come
But what dreams may pass between the shadow and the bluebird,
before the rise and fall of wild calls?
My hollow voice will echo faintly,
watch the ripple crawl across the watery table
The moon will glow and the sun will shine, ever brightly,
and where that ripple goes,
only they know
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