by Cliff Saunders
When the sun arrives in a flash,I will go to the altar of hummingbirdsand fix it fast. When the clockwalks in a cage, I will avoidlooking in mirrors. A condorwill soar over an incinerator.When a mountain catches fire,I’ll sing to a busted wingof great transition. I will cryin a time of mourningfor a church spire that’s charred.When the leader of the free worldeats the rain, I’ll stand on a sloopon a cold day while awaitingthe wake of tragedy. I’ll push backagainst a wall and make it higher.I will fit into this city or leave it behindlike any other agent of chaos.