Should we return here
When you arrive, through the arch
Early, late, striking
 
Frog mouthed infants
Wait, offered perch or trespass
Generations fly
 
And storm, dust or rain
Blue-fire, old tornado, lift
Finally away
 
~
 
There, an eye, a shape
Powerful silhouette, no
Focus to spare
 
Then, our strange ally
At the line, head over wire 
Asking suddenly
 
Do not watch the teeth
Trust is eye contact, meeting
No exchange; presence
      
~
 
You were smaller then
Heavy-light feet rushing dare
We are braver now
 
Sweet creature, laughter
Sleep in day; do you dance nights?
When your swineherds rest
 
What joy, sad honor
Tending, water, barley, home
Friendship, three seasons

~Solomon