Poem: When you hear yourself think

if I spent spring sitting at the river’s edge

expecting nothing, I was probably just waiting

for the sun to ignite my skin -----

                I still ponder there, like the last raven

in the autumn dusk, not quite feeling at home

but close enough to that everlasting light

to stay awhile longer, breathing the sky

knowing you could be more

than this skeleton you've become

                quenching your thirst

                               forging your words

flying your dreams on a kite

only to be shot down

dragging assumptions on the floor

when they should be lighter than air

if there was a washer of our minds

up where the clouds are born

he'd grew weary a long time ago

and quit his job

when you hear yourself think

do you go deaf?

*