#1284 - all those faces

 

1284

8.vii.23

4.190

all those faces

a line up

 

you could say each a story

remembered forth

so fleshed

 

each a thread of need and warmth

 

a sun a moon shows not, no, never the same

and by their own lights yet

 

a presence and ghostly

every face of my own absence

 

in high branches and under the sea

each a clock in its right

guilty as

 

wraps of habit

each successive bouts thereof

 

in plenty and in scarcity

 

the wish to be

still borne along on the journey

 

we lucky few alive

neither terror nor grief in our lines

who have done no great wrong

no horror have had to survive

 

not had to leave whom we loved

 

you bury one in your arms

nor ever always human

 

all faces fame must not achieve

each uniquely goes to time

 

dingo, fox, the madman murderer

the ox and mired with mill round

cat’s eyes

all the wheeling world

 

a trilobite

 

a first fish face before the plate

the staring eyes of dinner

 

some to soil and some to smoke

each equally now mine