In the house that Jack built the heat is more
than human kind can bear      I doze      I sleep
dream of crystal fountains   When I wake my
bed is soaked      I had so many questions
What good is wisdom now that you are gone
Blinded by the sandstorm on the beach of
Copacabana I never thought that
one day you would be gone
                                 How strange to be
and not to be—a cow with a crumpled horn
a nursery rhyme      a figure of fun
chained to your infancy      unable to
distinguish between fantasy and fact
the sea     the night     lilacs in the backyard
In the wind     the dust that awaits us all

John Lyons