Tundra

Short arctic desert day ---

And someone left their snow-shoes in the tundra.

Look around every which way

But i can't see just where the footprints go.

Is it a casual disappearance? ---

Plucked from the middle atmosphere

Like straw wind-blown.

No speck on the horizon ---

No simple message scrawled

Upon the snow.



Unearthly visitation ---

Someone left their snow-shoes in the tundra.

Hungry buzzard flier

Circling round and round

Rattling death's tambourine.



Have to run it down the cold wire ---

Late insertion in tomorrow's lost and found.

Should i spread out searching?

But i'm a little thin upon the ground.



So i raise my lips to coax

The last drop of brandy from the bottle.

Rest my feet and contemplate

The mystery that's haunting

This siberian space.



Show-shoes they bind me down ---

I'm just one more parasite of the surface layer.

I begin to get the feeling

I've been on this stage before

And i'm the only player.



One more arctic desert day ---

Another set of shoes out in the tundra snow.

I make my fade to white-out

And you can't see me where my footprints go.




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