Without

We could fly kites
Without wind
Without currents
Sail boats
Without turrets
Defend
With no moat
They stay out
Without time
I can count
Using gray hairs
Instead
Using repairs
To the wounds
That continue to mend

We ascend
Without mountains
There are peaks
In our sheets
We march without orders
And gleam
Without power
We get wet
In the drought
As it rains in the shower

Do you hear them?
Their clamor?
For wind to fly kites?
Currents for boats?
And currents for lights?
To need these is normal
But to me they seem tragic
The only need known to me
Is a bit of your magic