between the blades of summer grass where morning dew and spiders pass i left a dream that i once knew a vision of the green and you beneath the red and raisin clays

they trade their addictions for brass coins and coffee the saints’ names and numbers they tape

a sound falls from forever to my ear a train across the trestle on the river you may listen

i was not a beautiful boy i was not an angry young man i am not

and i said goodbye to the crystalline dream whence i was a poet, and she a queen while the rest feel few

i am lost in secret keeping i must end the shadow’s sleeping tear my heart away

the electric motor spoke to me of fear of one known just by we as if the world could hear the dro… on hot summer nights

i am nothing i am no one a wisp of dream which never will come true distant thoughts

a painted breeze seeps through the trees and whispers of its load fences awake no sound to make

slipped stars crowd the evening full moon looking on aimlessly driving, caressing imploringly passion condenses on car windows