#739 - in the very earliest days of a picture

 

10.i.22

739

3.10

in the very earliest days of a picture

 

when we are hardly here

nor anything to depict

but come from the dream

each single file

 

so we go on

days months hunches

this was all uninhabited

so soon since

 

scrape tin

throw brush across

keep scratching

it will itch more

yet there are voices

and ran away

 

before the first crossings out

come as an arbitrary character

 

some from routine

to these acres of the clock lost

where no one ever arrives on time

 

this is we’ve come to the edge of the world

 

used to marvel in here and still

it’s the same with the unwritten page

however the picture comes

 

and although there is no such thing

this is where we strike at the soul