1196
11.iv.23
4.101
who’s who?
a rickety draft
for godsbother
whose blue the sky?
and no one’s
if not
whose breath next?
how this where we are?
you could say there’s no belonging
but we recognize the signs
and ask
who’s leaf through?
let us say no name
but call the twig to reach
do tell
whose track of all the feet before?
whose whole green upfurl?
this elsewhere as if all along
some song for habitation
whose ocean laps?
and who will climb?
whose future will it be?
fetch seasons
take in these fists
whose big? whose small?
whose ball of fire?
whose gold wheel?
whose bone to bright the night?
so spin
and fortune wheels on all
who tops the tree and on from there?
and whether to walk among us
or gone
what if so sacred were only a question?
then who’s so brave to ask?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.