#1208 - if only

 

1208

23.iv.23

4.113

… if only we had time to live

(draft only)

groundhog muddle and trudge

 

i.m. John Tranter

 

 

to the moment of the poem gone

with passport bruise

and whom to trust

 

 

if only… there were time to live

 

imagine then the pause for thought

how we’d take in glory

a garden would grow over

 

I’d be tune colour splash

follow line till it met

 

I we would fill a page

bake beyond belief

make own standstill far

 

then ramble

then take up a tree

 

every poem has a possum in it

even just as you see

 

a picnic stretch

unscheduled flight

 

all christmas

lovely to be lost

and in among the manna falls

 

a tickle where it counts

 

in desert full forest

 

skies to weep dim

 

here we leaf it

there unfold

 

each performs a self

 

some like a mountain

others wilt

 

I’d make mine respite high

come under bushel

 

would there be less remembering?

no, we’d get away

 

brave all!

 

re-prime, go again

 

they say to smell the roses

you have to grow them first

 

white knuckles to cliff edge

and make your own if only

it’s just a little way to give

 

undergo and overarch

nibble at the edge

 

who’d leave home?

 

the scene of the crime would return

 

all just as well

and every friend come round

for a jealous fit

 

we’d burn, marry

rub, rub out

 

mulch the hands that feed

 

and all my time I was preparing

it was just for this

 

come into my mystery

bring the wherewithal

brown paper bag

come crisply

 

so we’d all run on

breathe our never last in days where otherwise

 

and all of this to entertain

to live the moment out