1980
6.154
3.vi.25
these are the
clouds at the top of the world
horizon biding, hill high
a parliament of them
it’s constant work, the mapping
as with the moss
in the falls of this rain
the peak-over clouds of the edge
like the sea, as it shapes along
they are ours
tap on a cloud for memory
come in come in, you’re welcome
great shadows spent here
froth of old godsbreath
floss of time spending
a forest of the least folk
cast about their spells
knit like the grass
spore of more
hung for a lonely hope of washing
travellers all, breeze and go
each unlike another
they’re up in the day
for wherever we are
mountains are making us here
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