A colossal amount
of unknown
slides down
the pearl
barely visible
of the sky.

A naked
cloud
I shivered
the cold wind
arranged as moss
invisibly padding
my arms
the car races
its lights inhaled
by the horizon.

My meaning
depends
on the weather
low lying thoughts
heavy with mist
or diaphanous silence
for intelligence
to connect the bird’s speech
with the stone’s stare.

How sharp
must the world
the geese in arrow
become
the last sun
cutting deep my eye
blinding with wetness
the world
inside my tear.

My story
insufficient
melts back
into buddha
tonight it’s night
more like star
fleeing
as long stream
of light.