poem

braided and woven
therefore i may not
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
world that changes under my hand
the child who threw away leaf after leaf
backward, turn backward
i heard the wind all day
the old west, the old time
let me be sad
as a white candle
this is the ship of pearl
in his guarded tent
just as my fingers on these keys
did you ever see an alligator