#2328 - dearly beloved

 

2328

7.135

16.v.26

dearly beloved

self-ekphrastic for an untitled work in MY FIRST FOREST OF WORDS

 

 

these are journey words rehearsed

 

for deeper woods to come

 

just one page

of the walk-in book

 

follow a smudge

just a scratch

something tears

into – is it a line? a shape?

is it a lie to tell?

 

brings to the place words become unbecome

 

somewhere the rain, so a hat

 

someone has to be alien landing

 

we’ve run out of excuse

 

a dayfold nothing settles

 

a nesting thing

funnel up

 

see where this all was thrown

 

you can count the dimensions

 

the dark is a door

 

these are voices of elsewhere

 

here’s depth to the page we fall in

 

to picture is to deface the real

 

will it sing?

 

that’s to pour forth, prank it

 

count and lose count

 

an arrow shapes the fire

 

can I have pictured all this nothing?

may I?   is it?

 

thing facing

happen to  

on the wall lain flat

 

anticipated in the

much call moment

 

it’s aphoristic

 

that’s a crouch to pounce

butterslip, join the dots

 

I am drawn to a work to finish

take my pencil to it  

 

because I was asked if I did

 

call it ‘Addled Scone Stroll’

call it ‘untitled’

 

go back and add a bit more

 

in the picnic woods

 

 come whichever way should take

 

and welcome

this is my country

you’re very welcome here