I can’t concentrate
When the day yawns
and through this glass door
I see the outside
A haze over the canyon
A wet mask held in place

These are just glimpses
Some other system of faith
Help me remember the way
That I saw this cold rain
As falling jewels
Littering the sky

And in my troubled sleep
I am a witness to the morning
Bright fingers around the earth
The science of summer
Alone in the mind’s eye
Balanced on crutches of fire

It feeds me this bitter rum
Poured over my pale body
Like silver ghosts
The proud new day
Born without knowledge
Of love or misery