Poetry

There was no sky over your 
head. You sidestep the lake 
and drown in a stream. 
 
After carpet bombing of 
scars, you missed the moon 
and skimmed by 
virtue of birth. 
 
Lifting the stony vices 
for thanksgiving. A puppet─ 
dies on a string. Nobody 
claims the body. 
 
Mistrust runs deep. You 
will not ride the tiger─ 
again. The urn contains the 
ashes of blue eyes.