With my purple eyeglasses --
Another day older, I suppose.
There's been so much lately to contemplate,
Since they dropped the dime on how
The world was run, in the entrails for the oracle
Of Orange Lakes. The sign says "Western Hound."
A pair of crows dive bomb a Dorito
Then tell us there's a stronger wave coming
At the exact same moment that it hits,
Like a sudden vista of once-distant mountains
Getting as real as you let yourself believe in them
At your window. For now, a cloud is resting
Inside the mountain, not giving this time but allowing,
Gathering thoughts before it moves on.
The poplars ring down the valleys with breath,
Carrying what is felt within the receiving stream
That outlasts all that has ever happened
Down every level, to sea thankful for every river.
The clouds are so purple it must mean something
But the sun tells us all we need to know:
How much gold is in the trees,
What language the baby is speaking,
What language the baby is speaking,
How there's redemption in every abandoned building.
