Ephemera

i was told last night, by a woman whose life was passing her by that the card in my hand indicated that i was to be reborn now i sit with ink from a borrowed pen that i borrowed from a friend who also gave me his food as America was passing us by and i so long to express this lovely isolation we are the light of a single star and no star is ever very far from my single thoughts they touch every one i am so many colors when i divide myself in the water that falls poured by a man with no plans at all