May 14 2016

thanks for choosing me.
I happen to write this yesterday, first draft.
here it is.

Like a wrangler on the prairie
Chasing buffalo I roam,
Riding hope and faith of many,
destination still unknown ....

Conscious, clueless, sick and weary...
standing still with art in hand,
Riding hope and faith of many
heading home to make a-mend

Maybe I will be forgotten,
maybe I will scar the path,
...maybe presence is illusion,
right until the final wrath

Stacks of boulder weighing posture
Sets in relic, grace and poise.
Resonating over oceans,
With her bell for whom she tolls.

thanks for reading,

fred goykhman
[email protected]
San Francisco

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