Call

this piece
gifted
was the one lost
on your tour of the galaxies
stolen by that woman
who envied you -
you're a bit of jelly in the sea
you glow but have stopped growing
yet you learn
your body will be devoured
or you will be in Orion
before I ring the bell

Will we Progress?

Will we make progress?
Raised by fire
since we were tiny beings,

we relax torn muscles,
then limp into darkness,
to be eaten.
Why won't three lifetimes
as mountain neighbors
call back our youth?
How could foolishness
reincarnate beauty?
Do something!
You'll understand,
and incarcerate everything.
Love is just delivery from time,

Join me there, at least.