use me while you can
bruce cockburn
there's a black and white crow
on the back of a two-toned sheep
in a field of broken yellow stalks
with giant jagged boulders
and pale weathered stumps
life in the ghost of the bush
wind whips the acacias and strange forked palms
that cluster around the water hole
a milk-white camel appears
bounces with the shambling trot
wears a sword and a rifle on his back
and hanging from his neck
a transistor radio. you blink and like ghosts
under the wan disc of sand-masked sun
into the path of a struggling black beetle
hoists her water bucket onto her head
and strides off up the trail. sun a steel ball glowing
behind endless blowing sand
dust of fallen empires slowly flowing through my hands
pearl held in black fingers
is the moon behind dry trees
pearl held in black fingers
bird inside the rib cage is beating to be free
i've had breakfast in new orleans
i've lived as a stranger in my own house
dark hand waves in lamplight
cowrie shell patterns change
and nothing will be the same again
looking for a place to land
full heart beats an empty one
in the deck they dealt to man