#508 - golden point

 

23.v.21

508

2.140

golden point

Zeit Glimmer’s apostrophe

‘it’s always afternoon’

 

all architecture to a mood

 

here

it’s what I chose

but I can choose again

whenever how often

 

how far will vines travel

to find the sun?

a half moon

 

certain songs where

extraordinary, the return of things

how we were always in the garden

 

between siesta and last efforts

           for forage, fire

 pre-snifter

to pond inspection

or which wings up

             to tree

         whose blue?

 

choose your hour of day and stay

I wouldn’t wish trumpety, like dawn

(by light for tone and moisture measured)

 

all art works a truth –

the way of things or here we are

 

day overgrows

the body remembers where

 

look around now so golden

      always the last of light

 

and tomorrow itself

a sort of Sunday

whom we may have been missing all week

 

look to note the place, entailments

so when you come back

you’ll know where to find me

 

and that we were always in the garden

             but you never knew