TERRA MYSTERE
propped up and plodding on
trusting in my faithful
cobta-headed
walking stick
I head out for the first
of what I hope will
be many horizons
before
the door shuts;
time runs out
as it is everyday
I edge further and further
into the territory of the ancient
such poor progress
that I make
might as well be
in reverse gear
and I had hope
to traverse them all
terra mystere after
terra mystere
find, envision
endless true wonders
no smoke
and mirror, no
trick of the light feeding
me mirages
for what else
battle like an ant setting out
to cross
the canyons of Mars
our Earth’s Sahara
a realm my cobra
knows so well
being (legend has it)
one of
those stick to snake
transformers beloved
of Egyptian
magicians and their
relentless Pharoahs
in my mind
now a pyramid
in the sky high above me
debating where to land
poems 2 die for 