gray ink on yellow sheets, deciphered
dreams, the bloom of childhood cast
as the main character, full of tears
that long for the feel of a loving hand.
invisible wind drives the hard rain
against my pliant skin to speak
of where it has been, what wisdom
it has gathered, what ears have listened,
what tears, what tears, what tears.
castle walls have shadows,
the builder lives within, the rain beats
against the stone, the child does not
understand why the shadows stay,
why the builder hides inside.
like the ragged edge of day,
fragments of my years,
castle stones and shadows full of tears,
full of tears, full of tears.