spirit

at the crust of night
the moon sharp as a razor.
dreams red and bloody.

sipping on life’s stream
you may be satiated.
for enough is small.

it’s a wide blue sky.
the color of your bright eyes.
where i dream of hope.

change is everywhere.
each breath, each sun’s rotation.
these choppy waters.

on the large tv
a herd of caribou eat.
is it grass they byte?

the sweet taste of spring
with winter’s bitter chaser.
days of discontent.