Constant Dream

A man, a woman,
a fire,

a lion, a horse
and a fire;

a fence so sharp
it bleeds.

Here loss grows

without sky,
without grass,
without sound.

These are things
we want for ourselves-

a father, a mother
a source of heat,
a fence to climb over

and into

cloud, field
and sleep.

This is our tragedy:

the dream
repeats itself
without end.

No comments: