the only borders
I see from up here are blue-
gold-green alliances…
you’ve locked the sea you
say, or you’ve tried to but those
waves will dash higher
than Ben Nevis or
Macdui when they do; and
you’ll know when your
un-bleeding sluices
your patios, declots the
bread and honey you
stash away or hope
to now but can’t because no
man is an island
and no one munches
on gold strips or swigs goblets
of blood and oil;
no one not cries the
first cry, nor not laughs the other
side of it all
nor writhes in pain, nor
not dies their final death; yes,
you’ll know when your songs
die unaccompanied,
your colours fade to ivory;
you’ll know that shades
harmonize, that blacks,
browns, yellows, know just how to
bleed your whites to red
~~