Poet's Lament

You, perhaps, have stoned the sky a million pelting birds to fly to break the atmosphere in half You sang the song, you laughed the laugh You, in kind, have run the sea up to the brink immensity to kiss the wings of pelting birds You named the name, you wrote the words You, my friend, have bent the night It fell to you without a fight to slumber gently in your palm You sold the soul, you calmed the calm You, alone, have caught the air in feathered wings, I know not where to storms abated in their breath You lived the life, you died the death~