#2009 - sad old things

 

2009

6.183

2.vii.25

sad old things

 

dust gathering

and how we’re home

 

like words we forget still were

 

jugs upstairs

all their underparts

 

words ringing round with toil of us

 

mad hair and how to comb?

 

cupboard scuttle too dark to explore

 

things left and things forgotten

 

rubble under

rich with lost wishes

 

old harvest to scythe

all kinds of rust

 

moonlight lost

 

a topple of fences

day unshaven

 

even till last joy

all become

even again

and we’re stone