God

Summer night,
so black you cannot see the stars
-- are there stars? --
so still the gnats are too awed to fly.
You blow a thousand bubbles, shot
through the silence-carved brick work,
out, away.
No wind will break the circles
that float to worlds beyond far suns,
for as you hold your breath,
there is no wind.
One, two, three, six,
a million bubbles, little moons
bouncing off the black tree limbs
that can only be seen when they move to speak.
They do not speak,
not now.
Summer night,
thick and warm as melted chocolate,
full of bubbles chanting, singing.
You breathe carelessly,
dare them to burst, dare them to stay.
They spin away.

We Will Be Safe No More

All dark and moving slow,
dream-people drift across the grass,
stand in the field and face the fireworks,
lift their heads and their eyes.
You and I can see our shadows
nodding off and catching each other,
all about the stars explode and rain.
This is how it feels to be alive -
don't forget it, don't forget it.
Fireworks rain brilliant spittle in the night's eyes,
music moves among the shadows,
blood flows from beer cans,
the round shape of a cat licks its tail,
and we will be safe no more.
Having heard the song of time
we will be safe no more.
I think our feet are always running
too fast for us to feel the speed
and just before I fall asleep I wake
and all about the stars explode and rain.
We can sleep no more.
Can you feel your black hair turning grey,
can you feel your wide eyes going blind?
Not yet, not yet.
This is how it feels to be alive -
stay awake and don't forget it,
forgetting is a way of growing old,
never flinch or close your eyes,
you can never die unless you close your eyes -
let them sting and weep.
Death is sleep.