Poetry

How age slips away 
from your hands? 
How deep you will 
go in the cavernous 
mind of time? 
 
Why brother, 
why, the healing started 
to hurt you and you 
did not want to 
stitch the name? 
 
No tattoo will tell your 
address. You want to 
go anonymously, leaving 
the moon behind 
the brown hills. 
 
The shadows are─ 
lengthening. Time was up. 
Lay down your arms 
and walk away with 
empty hands.