#380 - two poems - in whipbird country and dream deep

 

14.i.21

380

2.21

two poems

in whipbird country

 

having come this far in the clock

and on

goanna up

 

of the breeze and stops

standing in own words

 

stare any out

when weather far

the scribble forest

 

all skies fallen

dry day spread over the table now

 

and in this conversation

where cloudshift shows a sun

 

sway with an if we could

save one precious

 

light scatter of

where lyrics wax

 

sing for the silence between

each of us scripted just this much

 

as manage in one beak

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dream deep

 

you need to forget to begin

 

dig light from under day

 

au coin du rêve

some sudden there

 

cloud of a certain style

the way by sea

 (high tangle)

or fly at times

 

spirit level

trust under tree

 

no one welcomes you

sung up

 

ropes of a clamber

windows wide

 

here’s what you’ll need –

arrow clutch, bushel hid

a body and to do

the regular bruised pages

 

no one explains

this not remembering where

light was left

 

and the fast forget

all witness to

 

I left the dream for instance  

not a story though it goes

 

to follow in rough scribble

 

the hand that holds is mother

 

as down further deep in

come in all colours

 

see the tail of it slip away under pillow

 

in a sudden wish

by patience come to

and just a little further

 

dance between the days

you can take off your glasses for it