Morphling

I rise with the tide. Turning quick
on the globe, wrestling with cyclical

logic. Lately estimates turn vaporous
before even being shelved. I rummage

through doubt, combing akimbo strands.
No amount of looking in the mirror

turns you into a hero. Else it would be year
of the ghost, whenever it likes. Which driver

drove out the darkness? No development
glimpsed beneath bandages. Those without

homes evicted from the riverbank, orange
faded abode must've gotten tangled

with burgeoning sleek expansion, bridging
one cluster of technic centers to the next.

Nearby, elementary school teaches refugees,
gets tagged by violent graffiti. Little ones

walk to school in procession as security
reinforces hallways, peeling their eyes.

I choke on gimlet acts of courage.
Summoning inner rider to trample

the dusty root that snagged my foot,
claiming revenge that only festers.

Noting pearly wind streaking
in gusts through segregated streets,

thinking again of unrelenting change,
being chased through maze, the shriek

of exhaustion, bracers holding back
gush of torpid fluid. Even in leisure

my brain wheels in circuits, leaking
a little concern. Scalding water gives

asking price for my ransom. I reach
for the nozzle, like touching the face

of a lover at night, never escaping
water. Water floods the farms, will

not be conciliatory. I wake water. I water
mailbox. I carry water to shiny bank

of water. Though all water, some of us
wetter. When walls swelled to splintering,

and vices pried open every latent scar,
at what point did you see me waving?