walking the tracks
I saw a garden in pots
behind a cyclone fence and razor wire.
a lonely call
between parallel rails
orange lamp light.
Hours before your mouth moved an ocean.
Your round face sky blue midnight moon.
Whos light graces your cheekbones?
I wish I were the sun
for a day
and a night
on your round face.
But I am only the kiss of land and sea
as you pass