September 2017

without a thought i step out of this ism

all Greek to spring the scapegoat's song

blossoms all sprung out

her myrrh
embalms in words
a moment

death in spring —
clouds clot horizons
closing in

requiem mass
no objectivism
in this grief
spring days
stretching out
the light
remote valley
pylons empowered
stride the hills
here today
and gone tomorrow
this hiatus

here now
the absence i personalised
yesterday

narcissus . . .
the truth that lies
in her eyes

on solid ground
my eyes circumnavigate
abstractions

obverse mind
a dusting of light
on the matter

season word
I transplant my heart
into foreign soil

late afternoon
my shadow falls deeper
into debt

prayer in fits of ineffability

the less
said

of this

without words
which have

no memory

no echoes

know me

 

only when 
it enters us
the cold
spring bulbs
and still the words 
ache in us