And with that the bells reset their equilibrium gongs to drum beat,
the artery ropes string well again,
in the lone tusk buildings where shadows loiter together
there is an eyeball seeking out the skies,
it comes on nights like these
listening to the leaves scratch window nets
preparing the city earth
for summer storm times ahead again.
I view the days passed preservatives now,
I know the only way to scratch the itch of heartache
is to jump to the next well and dig
through the next months more.
I’m trialling my blade days with whisking
of koan and night sweat,
dreams of time lost in eyes of elderly wives
lurking on porch steps.
A gunshot waltzes with a wailing locomotive
that chugs on through the night,
mysterious to my bedroom mind
as wind-chimes chime.
