It has to be so still about iguanas
Who must be dreaming of sands.
A fistful of a bird ,on a clothesline,
Sleeps all night like an underwear.
The fistful of bird passes through
Some rapid eye dreams on sleep.
Like iguanas and bird on the wire
Poet sleeps on dreams about dad.
All things and creatures lay still,
As they dream from their bodies.