Poem Shards
Far Away Fire of You
I hear music. 
  Is it you?
       Singing to me
    in the heat
   as you walk down the hill
from your house
    thinking of me
  because I'm not there
     but off doing what needs to be
    as it has to be
  as it was before
      and is now.

   There is far off shouting,
      hollaring
 not sure what they are saying.
       Thought it might be you
      coming down that long hill to get me
 and bring me back
     like you are descending on clouds
        giant billows,
 cush
         on the landing
       singing angels
     always fighting
           dancing
          loving
      burning the bulb out.

        I've lost your channel
      now it is all a blur
        the far horizons are covered
                          in fog
          I can neither see the lake
             nor the forest fires
         on those far away mountains.
this poem is fresh:
     June 30 10:28 PM)