Untitled : bacchic Monometer

with blue skies
the man slept
on green grass

as dusk dawn
the man woke
to some storm

as wolves howl
The man ran
against squalls

and from there
the man flew
to high clouds

in rich towns
and poor towns
the man screamed
from up high

but no town
could bring down
the town’s-man
who was blown
to the skies