Narcissus can’t hold a candle
to me,
at once both King of Colorado —
entitled hobo of Nowhere.
Look there! That’s my face in the sky,
cacti and mesas my sole friends,
watching while I sift through the shards
of cultures few suspect.
Though none believe me now, riches
and the future are mine;
these silent silver craft
haunting me,
they’ll be all around you soon —
I am digging their past.

Copyright Francis Barker 2020