panning my
gaze of
conched nebuli
grasping wheels in their hands
dyed silk air flapping
startlings land on the grass
ruby-black-globed-bodies
of feathered death & wink
silently an applause of wings
I am filming the sky, purely come
& rushing over dreaming stone buildings
sprinkles of green
growing invisibly beyound
the damp elbows
of lost cigars, fingering
higher & broader, deeper & faster
than typewriters of instant eternity
