3.iii.21
431
2.62
chimneys and
windows
…
and through the garden grove
otherworlds
first were
in pools of the still stream
skies stood
selves saw selves so
knocked to call
a cast of doors
paper sail
some sinking
and in the tinkle whiff other of
up in smoke
then now the riff to do
some saw through the making ways
we come from sleep
foretold the storm
the poem
in the story
in the picture
in the song
life raft leapt for
swept seas high
no back from
but on towards
who ever knows (?)
a fantasy outlives us all
or tie the tongue here else
square soil of the hole down to
come friends who’ll tell
may play at forever
no such thing as here we are
who’ll say waking now?
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