Young Poet

To the young poet who once willed the weather warm
    Then burnt his tail sailing a New York City storm

Mothers proud eyes and fathers bad back
    Gripping heart, pulse, contract

Mindful-mystic, hieroglyphic-misfit
    Dawn of too many tomorrows

Become the efforting sun, son, sum
    Courting the drifting spirits
    Gasping for honest lyrics

Allowing the needlepoint blood flow
    To drop, spin, and soul glow
​ ​   Hop, skip, and hopeful
​ ​   Born, fed, and grateful

Gong swipe for the faithful
​    Tasting the salt water
    Embrace the passing rain
​  ​
Upon the faded trail marker
​    To will the weather again














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