Poem by Jim.

Your home is still here.
Violet, uncertain.
Oh, I want to be there, I want us to be there, oh, I want to be there...beside the lake, beneath the moon.....
drinking its hot liquor...
I want to be there.
Thank you, oh lord, for the white blind light.
A city rises from the sea.
Let me tell you about heartache in the loss of god.
Wandering, wandering in hopeless nights.
Let me show you the maiden
Out here in perimeter there are no stars.
Out there we are .
Immaculate...