Twig upon twig

Wind is upon wind, twig upon twig
Twig upon wind and leaves in wind.
A star roosts on building's roof-slab.
A broken dog barks, a mind breaks
To a clearing in a jungle of morass.
Time to clear eyes of light for a min.

Forget kitsch, forget the need to die
To acquiesce, to surrender, to sing
To stretch throat not coming of poet
A poet's mediumistic art , no matter.
Poet's existence is a mere whimper
A howl of protest just before his dawn
About a moon-face and a dead man
Who walked there in his strong arms.

(Neil Armstrong the first moon-walker passed away in today's news)