whilst

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i awake as a fugitive once again
i call upon my own for a word of help
i contemplate flowers left by neighbor
i listen to anti pop remnant
i crunch on spinach and onion
i pound out beethoven instruction
i read the writings of surprised reply
i play with word twisting posting
i cool my skin with crisp sky
i warm the kernal with connection
i stare to the ragged tree sketch
i pull back on the moon's tugging
i whisper my own messages at the sun
i am in love with a woman who is not here
i feel the horizon as an ideal of brightness
i think of wild garden grove wandering
i dream inside the treasured river