Yesterday, a night while
It drizzled mangoes
Instead of water.
I received a pile of good night messages
One by one, a counted pile,
One by one.
A flash, or a pigeon tail
It didn’t matter that time, then
Yet I drove with the dove
To see the land where it came from
To meet the O.
My heart beats silent, opaque,
For a place like an ogre antlion
That walks on fours, ready and back.
