Words, words, what is a poem?
Ideoglyphs imbibed by the hyaline mind.
A story of ghosts sifted from dream.
A shining song in a hollow bone.
Is it message or is it a maze?
Is it a moment inked in stone?
Is it forever
or shredded to stuff a crocodile?
The bird calls the unseen sun.
The stars shed their timeless dust.
The wind wheels our weal and woe.
What sets my hair on end?
The stirring of the storm.
What smooths it out again?
The honey in the coomb.
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