Once in Lausanne, under the loose black soil
came undone the girl whose father braided her hair,
offsetting the ends with polished fish bones
when her eyes (now gone
to white) still blinked blue.
Two boys on a pale horse will ride by me,
laughing,
while they wonder what sad man
chases a sunset with both hands tied behind his back?
What man waits sleepless for three months
watching for sugary petals taking root at her eyes
to burst and blossom,
and giving from them new light to see?
I hold in the shadows of mountains, soundless,
drawn by her delicate fire.
A unique and surreal experience as each visual image leads fluently ahead, line to line in
each creative verse.