#1820 - bringing words home

1820

5.358

24.xii.24

bringing words home

for wise surprise

 

I am in many at once

you and we are

conjugants

 

what a journey day has been

often beyond

or run out

or gone

 

wordwise

out past the known horizons

 

night falling in with

a blind kind of feeling

 

each means as it must

for me, for you, for anyone

nothing you’ll unspeak either

 

the dog and the dead thing

it’s sometimes like that

laid at your feet

 

firstly

and all though the night

once, when a fire stood up

 

and so until the whole tree sings

 

woke in the shouting crowd