Outside, beyond the curtain
of sand
Trees laugh.
This life is a phantom's dance.
Ghosts and friends hold hands,
pass.
We jig.
We are in a unison
Way beyond our fathoming.
We arise. We plant.
We are organelles in a green
blood's dance.
The caller is fast.
He slurs "tobacco, cattle, teachers,
chance."
We are partners in a green blood's
dance.
