The heavens mapped? The spent mind
of a wanderer mapped back upon his silent sky

The heavens mapped? The spent mind
of a wanderer mapped back upon his silent sky
Priests talk about the end of time—
how all this will burn.
It’s true: my dearest friend did not die
when I was in España
The back door was my savior, leading me
To jade insertions of a picket fence
It came first to the waters. The shores thicken, nothing like life.
When diverse colours in a forest blend
the greens like olive emerald lime & jade
When our fathers
approached your
holy Mountain,
brushing a blade
of grass meant death.