Tomorrow is another dream
where the ancients have troweled
an inner world
smaller than oblivion
and longer than time itself.
The question mark is either
how to begin
or where to depart.
Simultaneously within the hand
is the entire coast of Florida
and the whisper of the wind
is synonymous with your flowing hair
from which the planets hang
and the mystery of you begins.
Another passed ruin on a long
journey another sign post
to somewhere exceedingly far
which I have not yet dreamed of
but I continue to walk these steps
as if a poem endlessly composed.
