Moonshine from
Monaco
a poem by Alex Barzdo
We were stardust, children
Moving Earth to Eden.
Disabused of stale mildew,
Smoking words where no guns grew,
Stroking music from disdain, hope from early dew.
We were golden in the
silver;
Clutching a new voice in the darking river;
Nudging a dial to borrowed sleeves
Overswept with crested leaves;
Listening, glistening in ears that longed in sheaves.
Here the Garden’s sweetest flower
In tombs of rooms that once were sour,
At festivals we camped at Patching,
Respect for artistry newly hatching.
Nights the sun could smile, a sleepy kitten scratching
When the sheep lay soft in slumber
Seekers found a newer number,
Freedom in a void will die
Without the warming breath of love
Purer than crisp new snow, awaiting tracks for us to know
Radio
Geronimo
Poem ©Alex Barzdo
