how could you dream up there
too low the altitude for clouds
to serve as your bed and grand pillows
too high to pass through its test windows
.
the leafless vigor that mightily holds
seems to be dead and rather old
how can you drive on rugged endless road
you’re clipped between shaky withering loads
.
the wheel of fortune is in your favor
for tomorrow it’s in another’s hands
the higher you get to be in the future
the hardest the fall for sure…
—
bottleofrhum 