Come home from far across the sea
no soft shawled shoulders welcome
the wanderer - nor familiar comforting
arms catch me from the race, save me
from myself - this greed for movement
swallowing hollows, swollen mouth dust dry
deserted. Gone the knowing fingers weaving
my searches into teaching, patterns of ways
and means. Unwanted, the whisper sharers’
gentle tongues shorn, fall, haunt pavements,
forlorn. Everywhere lies and gives nothing back!
No sky blue liquid looks, nor rivers fish full
riffing my ripples on rain following flows.
New eyes of glass stare unmelting
and inside the only growing is old.
Man made shells, rough cornered
ricochet me into rage. I swell, polluted
child of space, filling the vacuum, but
I am lost
all that's left of before
Life. I cry and nothing