Did I hear you right -

About the vine that crawled up

Only to dry out at the top?

Not even a flower along the way -

Now what kind of existence was that?

I try to discern, finding stars

Or forms in the dot matrix of event before me.

A blanket of coils moors us together

An itch in the West amplifying

An agonizing cry in the East

Where time and again a reminder echoed

Of how better off the world would be without one of its parts

The finest form of war to wage cries

To ignore, to relegate

Till perhaps, in a distant time

A dormant corner conflagrates.

Shall I go chase the moon now

And tell him of this pipe dream

Or look to my soul for answers ?

I look at your face instead, garlanded with bougainvillas

As we pass them by, your queried look at my dreams

On how they would work with your life

Which began as I cradled you to Tschaikowski's melody.

I now stand as meaningful as a dinosaur

Before you, waving

As two squirrels scramble for my heart

And your husband beckons from the car below.