Day fourteen.

Howl at the moon

          Tears in my eyes. Crystal clear, like May Rain,

          Like walking in the woods alone,

Like having somewhere to sleep at night.

When the sun and the horizon meet,

          The birds dive deep.       DEEP.  D E E P.

          Deep into the clouds where angels weep and roses turn to dust.

The houses where our parents slept. Where the windowsills fill

With flower pots and dirty coffee mugs. The weather seems to be

Nice in this area. CLOUDS. Here where mountains move like months change,

Like butterflies raise their wings, when the thunderstorm lets you in .

COLD LIKE THE SEA, HAPPY LIKE THE WIND.

          The creases on each page, the words that stare blank.

Meet me at the end.