For these are the days we see, in blue white
lights of tattered silver steeds and dead men
talking. Upon the sea, across this desert
night this fire burns for you; yet you can
not hear the flames of my lust rising. Take
forth your own youth and your own broken
heart and let it lie still; for what you
know of love will never reach you. Still
the clouds may stay in your eyes, like a
painting in Mozart’s dreams of old times,
they have shattered as I dream of new blood
like youth lost in the pictures of our past.
Gray has become a friend of mine and a two
wheeled steed glides me to my place of rest.
John McKinley Pride Jr.