• I'm still with those worn dolls,
    In the old place,
    Ragged by the tear of history.
    Chalk on the cracked oils,
    Words loom fifty feet tall.
    Look into the mirror,
    See the child there,
    Whisper how it's written -
    "Hold On."

    Illuminate the faces,
    Time forgot,
    I am one.
    There is an alcove here,
    Where our books are stacked,
    If I burn a page now,
    The memories will shrill like the phoenix,
    Never to be resurrected.
    Ash stains marble!

    That crow,
    Even he sheds sheds that fleeting stranglehold,
    Of that pale dirt.
    I long to dance as he does in the dust,
    But linger too long in a drift.
    I thought I saw a holy ghost,
    Yet it is hard to see with only one eye.
    Another is still sewn.
    Built for hesitation.

    Yes and no, sir,
    Could very well be, sir.
    Who are they, sir?
    Nobody knows.
    let me flee or fly,
    Touch the sky!
    One, two, three, figures.
    When will you be back, sir?
    A little more chalk.