Only in the desert when the moon was new
you noticed how savage the west wind blew
how bright and how dearly the starlight shone
before you lost tense of you heart and bone.
Cause time is callous and what has been lost
you’ll seek in your whiskey, in sand and in frost
you’ll seek it in vain unless you go west,
to paint yourself starlit becoming your best.
I don’t think I did Bruce justice, but this is what I could come up with before going to bed. For Marion at toads.
December 16, 2019