Spontaneous poem

If you clear – the moonlit space in time

My mother’s pearls I’ll be

Breath of hallowed ground, affairs

Of the meek, yellow

Windblown tresses

Crawling up the Tupalo tree –

I – a naked man, lit by the

Furnace of time, will breathe

White stripes down your throat

And kiss

And remind you –

All is Empty, All is a hollow

Kernel, a tesseract,

As chestnuts land from my hair,

And bleached by the countenance

of youth,

I take your hand.