The legacy of a man
Supposedly
Of two skins
Of two poles
Of two shoes
And one moon
Where he walked on
With glide, poise and steal.
Talent is not how you
Make a crescent, a circle
It is not how you make jaundice, gold
It is how you pour
Moonbeams into a million hearts
Moons into meniscuses of eye-curvature
And do moonwalks;
Effortlessly making promenades
To the infinitude of time.
