Tell me if I'm observent
Or alone in my grace

Or do others notice the Trance
Of a poet's pace.

As we hit the rhymes
                On overdrive
                     To confess a truth
Only known to I.

Mingling words
With the memories of our boots

To form a new questions
That draws insight,

To views lost among the thrill of youth

And the stings of sense that bridges thought
Strings a certain charm together at last.

Collect the bolts, secure these lines

            Dip

                   Dash

                            Drizzle

                                         Drip

A piece of everything I did caught.

Yet nothing all at once

Perhaps the Glass of reflection
Has done his last trick

To invade the splinter
And weaken every nick

To the unbound genius of a glance
That was beauty   deeper   still

If only to crack
The message in the rebirth
Of the sunrise

From these undulating hills
Laughter listened and cried as,

I quote the wind
And recorded the wise.