given to me by elders
who feel they must leave something
just a little different
to have lived for something
a fragment of a leaf
on which is written my name
sold by those who felt the same
who knew not how to ask
where sorrow comes from
why you can't speak of it
and therefore live it
true the form taken
of a dozen few ones
worn by variations
of the same lung and shape
I saw a hundred mice in a lake
terrified of stomping feet
that made leaves fall
to fall was their fate
not one of them great

two snakes wound together
thought they were the
sunlight falling on their cracked warm road
laughing at unlit depths
we advise to burn
your name and not trust wind
our hopeless believer
did you see how they
wrote, hoped, dreamed
and didn't leave one thing
to remember
bought one word
a name
and now it's all they know

there must be a lesson here
so they all think