painting by Jim White

Cure

Meaning under tongue

Dissolves like ideas

Into moon behind clouds murmuring

Truths in a language not yet created

For lanterns have yet to coalesce

& caress the song of a single bird of prey

Moves like midnight

Uphill climb barefoot

Callous forms

On minds & behind the curtain

An interpretation revealed

Like bee stinger

Accidentally discharged

Due to heat waves

From over analyzing

The icicle blinks

For a season comes

Purely

To go.