The stars are like dust
Scattered behind clouds
In a raging wind
A violent storm
Like the brittle branch
I have broken at the thin point
But still I cling
Still I hang
I have a bell
In the palm of my hand
Silver, silent, glacial
It does not sing
The moon holds no light
The wind no weight
The sky no heat
The heart no flame
I can’t scream
I cannot scream
I
Can
Not
Scream
Tibetan Lemonade 