#303 - in my own archive

 22.x.20

303

in my own archive

 

come friends collect me

 

call it pile or process

join the dotted lines

 

not knowing where

went on

secret to the mystery

 

as if hard light would tell

 

flew through an open window

(years better off without)

 

how here?

you guess

why me?

now?

 

lightly lightly held the tiller

mix metaphors until

rabbit down a ladder

up a greasy pole

 

and a little preening here

sweep away leavings

I’m the new broom

 

every day it takes longer

I’m adding activities

(nothing intentional)

 

close eyes

then world is gone

 

bless myself go on

some to the well

and gather for gossip

barter in the square

 

friends among the flowers come

 

time is different here

 

come along a little further…

it’s all forgetting where and when

 

music

a banquet begins

 

some days put the finder through

imaginary country

 

new letters

new words

latest marks

never deciphered

up until now

 

I have a sky of stars

smart casual

a dusk beyond

more often in pyjamas though

a page and dark to it

 

not yet knowing to mean

 

I know you’re hiding

let’s play SARDINES

and who is missing in this action?

 

shady characters

turn novel

bow

plot a way

and home

 

of course it can’t be quite the dream

but try

(some days the pages all on fire)

 

have we eternity’s eye?

one doubts as elsewhere

 

slow starter

call upon the screens

then throw a picture

wild flail

limb lithe

 

just as a map in everywhere gardens

already  nostalgic

for having just begun

 

and find myself here

in my own archive

no one as lost as me