Two Poems


strands of submission trampled to the floor
a generous journey’s not meant for sleep
for highways lived to feast on straws and clay
the tent never burning
imperfection – a delicate beauty


the silver beach of darkness
a ship of vaulted shadow
you hear the drums crying
for night to woo daylight
a secret fascination
with that sky highway
aware there’ll be time enough
to feast on his heart
when the journey’s over
content with imperfection
a boaster, but a sport