You Be the Judge

On a dark star-filled night
I step outside long after
the town retires and gaze
upward, dogged stillness
the analogesic to my soul.
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You
know the
feeling: waking
up staring to
the right where
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Take these incendiaries with you on the trail:
let the words themselves be fat and resinous;
impregnate the charcoaled ink with paraffin;
and may the whole be written upon the scroll
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I pause and breathless gasp at stars
which loose ten thousand brilliant shafts
through narrowed iris, fluoresce cones.

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Come, gather ’round
and square your minds
with an aquiline profile
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The love that blossoms
from the bud which perishes
unfolds forever.

Tell me, are you amazed
at the African mud swallow
which builds its tiny nest
on the sides of tall reeds
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Many-faceted shining bits
    of what we said and did,
they filter softly down
    and crowd around my knees.
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every
  poem
         is a
           camel
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