with a
bag full of useless currency and coins
from a
mix of countries and places I've been
some with
stories yet unseen
hits me like an icy
blast of Irish spring
Going home in my own time
where hearts are beating rhythm
a rhythm I've got with music and my gal
to the
place where walls are pulsing
when I
start dancing, we start waltzing
down a
river Southerly
that follows
my mouth till Westerly
south to
be home
everything's
butter and honey
milk and
wine
where I
can spend my final time
on a can't-miss
train unscheduled
nothing
brewing, rearranged
I'm going
where spirit soars higher
where
fire burns brighter and nights have desire
Not growing old but growing older
making the
road where keys fit doors
that makes
the Lord’s laughter float
like the
Lord has made me before
ridding
myself of scornful desires
to a
place where autumn leaves fall in springtime
and waters
run inland through Chiayi
home and
nowhere else would I reside
but a
place that allows the sun to ride
the winds
of trees that blossom by
The
ancient diesel rail road slows me
Shows me
what hurry can’t afford
The seconds
of a dawn
with
increments of sun on the horizon
and sunshine
of love all day long
April 14,
2021
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