The tides of the day
Reave you from place

Grandeurs of time.

Somewhere the resolute
Intergenerate with the

Dancing dregs.

It wasn’t much else
Opiates in the mornings

Jamaican showers.

Why I turned about
I shall never understand

Perfect sight for perfect minds.

And beheld your face
Weathered and wrought

Like old leather.

When I wonder about
Times passed

I see you.

Death in the light of day
The diminution of sight

Plagued interstellar lights.

Where downs revive
And flesh is rent

Seven ways from remiss.

When the demure
Silence rings in your ears

Much as a passed star,

You will have seen my
Lead in the auspices of

Lightning remnants.

Coming to bear in
White clefts of

Salt flats.

I had sooner thought you
Dead than another

Conglomerate of

The chastity of the woe
For the sevenfold tense

Of a lightning day.

I postulate that
You may again soar

In space below.

Yours was the evidence
Of a life spent searching

For that last remnant of time:

The vertebrate condition.

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