Rays from his barren eyes
Collect the cranberry air,
Rainfall carries the temper
of comets to the crib.

Consoled by the concord of thyme’s,
minerals and misty plums,

His blood is baptized
with the cocoa and
toffee climate.

Prancing through the
crooked underground

His roots condemn
the pressure.

Thoughts of solemn drifts
Time in laps
of waves and sun-down.
His dramatic, purple soul
lives in the sands
of wooden music and butterfly leaves.

Taken back
Not there but all of this here
Balances itself like landing tornadoes.