POEM ON THE GO

Others' faces tell their own story...
omens from the final sacrifice to be good...
i told of my dream last night
The dream of the burning eagle....
Prone to drinking and fighting...
seeking favour of the gods
Rectangle of stone sat upon a plinth carved with scenes...
traveling along the faster, paved roads west...
shades would haunt...
paces from wall to wall....
Eyes rise to the blue arc of the heavens....
wich was decorated with a scattering of lambswool clouds...
the skylarks yet trilled from on high
sign that spring was passing...
Keen-eyed expressionless...
I have built a bridge that will last forever.....a stonework...
eying the sinking sun...
bound to get away in the poor light....
at down.....

Eagle standards as our own,
to the thunder god
God pass your hand over
of trumpets in the nick of time.