a man in the garden
his hands aren’t very clean
a pail full of water
he pours another dream

with a knock and a shuffle
a smile and a nod
the glass on the table
filled very red like blood

a phone needs to ring
with bells that hit too hard
the flame on the candle
burns like it’s in your heart

and stares and decisions
escape the shrinking space
the heat breaks the silence
unity of race

blind sight sees a vision
something yet to come
then the night, no religion
a transition back to one

7 stars in the distance
11 bars in a row
13 cars in collision
with 10 more on the road
2 more jars left to open
1 more door to close
men in the gardens with nothing left to stroke