singing the future

under skies of a clean blue

away from the scene often charged the day baked into a mans move never feeling unsure or even ill he said the changing guards will as a color form guides the fingertips folding the night past the even numbers odd and matched to the wheels humbled on a prayer run of burnout squeeling anticipating worlds to arrive with news creating and building the soft dry nests for the seven thousand greeted guests who weirded up the stage of time keeping things out of the service lines strolled from walking trail crossing prints sold to the highest bidder of bold retold around the burning ring of gold just so every voice of winter can hear screaming his own message for a spell she called this whole explanation input as a brave foot stood at the window to chase off the determined codes becoming colder near the frozen eyes staying warm from the light of fireflies quoted boat captains spoken old moldy stories all around many tall ears glory eyed waiting for the punch stuck in the rut of sulphur mud he backed us out with doubts to collapse the face of our shouts going low and down over sounds so the highest felt piercing true sticking past the solid gripping glue left from charging battalion chiefs severed for blood stained meats the fire died to find some sleep a blue moon sat filling up with light falling down over the west to rest pulling dreams away for caught morning sang a faithful smell to a pot of brewing brown roast I listened to the abstract singing ready to climb into the future