#526 - there was a book

 

11.vi.21

526

2.159

there was a book

 

poem in the forest

and it wore the afternoon

 

you’d never been

where anyone would lose a self

and always more

nor ever the same before

 

home feral

close to the coldest day

and simply stayed in bed

 

there was a book

lived inside like a shoe

              and under tin

was always in the offing

hearth, billow, curlicue

 

lambs all sorts

and falling fences

nibble a garden edge

 

run of flight of

who was

 

inhabited a smoulder

with a wink and that’s the way

 

cosy, tucked up

read it here

 

head cloud rug vanish

just for the sake of words

hills over far just where

and coming through the rye

 

it’s how we went

lost to a tune of time

there among

once in a while

 

was it meadow made asphodel?

 

loft and watch

for the sunshine

ages come

 

where we dreamt

another now gospel

otherworldly wish

 

kingdom, principality

mostly though the garden

in the forest in the poem

in the book

still being written

took to the dark

 

there was a book

knockabout

and kind of wise

grown leafly to season

 

where I was yours

and you were mine

and the twain

forever met