I moon for you like a hidden still
Of hillbillies, in the moon wind hills;
Like a flounder caught,
In a foundering stream,
I follow the edge
Of another's dream.

I pine for you like a smitten tree
Once lightning-struck, where no one could see;
Or a one-winged bird
With his broken-note,
Like a bankers loan
No one would tote.

I wait for you like a counterfeit breeze
Waits for an opened map, to seize;
Or a bank robber bides
His time outside
The bank, till no one's
Left inside.