Ruby in Sand

wondering where you are
without your ring

grown in a slope
perhaps with a tilted view
Vinh to Quy Chau

set by chromium then gold

fitted for a heart
sliced out of the country
and taken to town

Basherta Basherta
can one believe in a thing
molten for color?

red-breasted sap-sucker

pecking endlessly,
ringing out wells so sweet
hummingbirds sip

with no cue of hue
seeping from within a tree
while she spins

mountaintops in her glass

while somewhere
he plays her favorite record
of ancient ruins

a needle pressed in
the groove going, going

gone in carbon

Appeared in Ken*Again