The tropical rain comes down
He wipes it away
The phantasm of a winged singer
In a Swiss cheese face
 
He wiped it away
The pock-marked bullet holes
In a Swiss cheese face
The evening light careened and crashed                      
 
Those pock-marked bullet holes
Inevitably came back
Into the evening light and careened and crashed
Following a dragon’s footprints
 
It is not a boomerang
that tropical rain coming down
Following a dragon’s footprints
and the phantasm of a winged singer