Downwards, Onwards

Walking backwards
down a tree

The birds
with their gawking

I've never been famous
yet their paparazzi pecks

suggest I've always
They ask me

Are you the
Are you the

No, I reply
I am but a

Still they insist
I am just in time

There’s morning song
and Maghrabi mint tea

No, I repeat
can’t you see I'm falling

What do you think this is
a lucid dream?

1, 2