The Black Vagabond And The Swan Of Two Heads

Still the fields are in motion

Not as pictures but as time

Hunting the white plague

In the absence of my body

I watch myself drown

in the blue aura

Of mine and I see

The swans leave the pond

But still the words circle

Around my head like flies

The gnashing marble teeth

Were disturbing my slumber

And there I was in the middle

Of a game called chess

But my vagabond initiated the process

Yet the fields are in motion

Not as time but as clouds

Falling as silver rain

And washing away the heavy blood

The gnashing marble teeth

Were disturbing my slumber

And there I was in the middle

Of a game called chess

But my vagabond initiated the process