A Glimpse

For a brief moment

I had it all,

love and money

it was a spicy-flavored juice

with peaches and bananas,

eventually called ambrosia

because it brought to life

sailors stranded after their ships sunk--

Oh eyes, when it meant something to touch--

and the hurt of separation

was like the burning of embers

of the soul

and reunion was the spark that

ran generators in minus five degree weather

so ignitable--it could be ignited by sight--

almost lost my eyes

to crying--savoring the taste--wanting to touch it

again

at times like silk

at times soft warm rubber

strong and sturdy...

suddenly gone

only a glimpse

reality has wakened me to a

worse isle than before

to be awake a nightmare

and to sleep, an escape.