A Jar of Love
The jar of love once brimming,
A piece of dry bread dunked,
A youth without a vision,
Drops of seed 
In an April breeze –
Dancing. 

The wind of fall, of autumn pale,
The youthful face once worn
Behind a veil of taste and truth
Now blinded by greed and fate;
Ambition nailed on a creaking cross
Worn as shadow suit. 

The blind boy walks
Between pines and firs;
Lumbering beneath 
Ageing birch, bark-less
Silvery shadows rolled;
A banking lord’s dream. 

The western wind brings forth
The spring of revelations:
The fevered few
In search of dyed yarn,
Unworn socks on chilly floor
Brings a boy once more a-searching.

Wrapped in unknown shadows 
A boys walks, stumbles, trembles
Before an untainted face, 
Blue eyes or mirrors of a happy sky 
With cherry lips smiling, speaking 
Of pottery, of poetry, and love.