I once asked for more
as stood I in that desert night
and remembered green
in a land I'd never touched.
Memories of a slippery tongue
and crumbling city walls
hiding legends
drew me closer.
More came to me
over the years
and I stood
in that remembered land
listening to the fiddlers
and the sea
dreaming of the morning light
over cactus.
Sweet, bitter irony.
More time, more time...