TRAVELERS

where did my ideas go

did they hide in the mind from which they flow

or slip from the skin from which they grow

and fly to the stars and together they glow

or mourn with the moon or caw like a crow

swim down trenches, no matter how low

or entrance little kings, kissing their toes

or asking the queen the little she knows;

did they coil like a snake in the cold of the snow

graze in the grass with bedizened does

or break out of prison, causing a row

or saunter out ballrooms, princes in tow

(and leaving them hanging and wailing in woe

or laying on daises on lips on pillows);

did they spill out of skin that is sliced into bows

or turn into dancers, gliding down my nose

brandishing swords and singing with foes

spinning in circles in alphabet prose

hiding in the petals of a candle wax rose

going where the coffee wind blows –

____oh where!

____did my ideas go