Time

i am the banshee  
singing songs upon the horizon    
at you    
not to you    
across a great and long divide    
that keeps us divided    
subtracted versions of ourselves    
extensions endless    
if only we would raise our fearing fingers to the fragile    
cracks in the gully    
we were guilty    
of cowardice then    
of cowardice now    
i sing    
songs of old meaning    
at you    
not to you    
long songs at you    
the version of you i keep multiplied    
digit equal to my own  
thousand moulds    
precious and holy    
a muse    
almost  
i howl across the divide    
i hope you are howling too    
and i see the smoke rise    
a fire in the land across the way    
i hope you are okay
and someone puts that fire out quicker than I used to
when I used to