it seems a day
(or years) ago
when lazy waters
gurgled low
across the sun-baked
silver stone
to fold in pools of
liquid bone
that i first noticed i
was alone

and what else could i
do but laugh
and chisel out my
upon the face of
hollow sky
where desperate prayers
meet to die
and there are no such
fools as i

This poem originally appeared in the 2009 collection Sixty-Six.