6.ii.21
407
2.37
a map of the village of day
where in pocket of sky
world flowering
sun for lampthrow
list picture
make yourself one
come creases to follow
a finger
read like a census
names of the hours
they were planets too
strapped for bliss
map’s one kind of truth
as in possession
turn over the page for a
mirror
fall through
up the volume
come mists to make
come leaf falls
(each a map of its
heaven)
listen to the roof as
seen
and sketch from memory
chart of the clouds and
of now lost breezes
testaments of the lit
take star rise
dance, bees do
make maps of the year to
be
orchestra plan … day
tuning
crooked from lost
intentions
bung stops, broken strings
a balancing map
and a rounded up sum
show borders, tracks,
the creek gone
and who flew though?
guess where it goes
in a map of the day out
of seasons to come
old donkey, leather
strap and up
burdens forgetting
a sleepwalk
more forced march
here find the words
where we were thrown
inkfalls and scratch
tremble up tremble up
practise our instruments
here
over the page
ReplyDeletea mirror
to fall through
onto an orchestral map
a safe place
for crooked days
practising moments
to fall rough
critical moments
over borders
the village map
rising
like a flowering world
suddenly awake