passing clouds
you don’t remember,
wind rising in the sky,
you, bereft of fortitude,
me, just strolling by

trees flare into flames; my friend,
a pettiness of heat.
the past at last unchanging
no memories so replete: 
 

golden sands, and crystal brooks,
silken threads and silver hooks.
glimpsing what’s already there
blue shadows, orange flares
she's screaming on the stairs

a friend you trust implicitly,
a lover you just like,
a reckoning, that’s obvious,
a slight rearrangement of the night

a study of false documents,
poems, you may surmise,
the woman who called yesterday,
thank God! She’s still alive!

feeling unbelievable,
say it loud, now, if you please,
the never-ending story
designed, I think, to tease

the beginning of the end, my friend,
you're startled by the sky,
a moment of deep-intimacy,
time flashes by,
as lightning streaks the sky
I hear the phoenix cry.

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