The rivers are forgotten dreams.
Misplaced and misshapen as birds, gouges
on shadows of spirals and time clocks.
Where you are is not where I should be.
The palm tree in your backyard-
looks like it needs watering.
I drift on a lonely fog, my mind incorporate
as a bog. Clouds wrap around congruent
shapes, mathematical shapes
blue signatures and blue flowers.
I awaken to a pelican barking in the night,
at sea lions on a warm rock. The sea lions
shine like moon stars and snow saturates