I am a buyer of stories
Your knick knacks mean less to me than the words they form
I am a purchaser of tales and wilds
Unending wind of sunlight and shadow
I survey the stars for the worlds they’ve seen
The tragedies, the brokenness, the heartbreak of dreams.
I steal from the rivers their tumult and song
The hissing of brooks as they babble along
I am a trader of the lifeblood of all,
The stories of men as they rise, love, and fall.