The Everything in the Everyday
I’m trying to understand —
What does this ocean mean right now?
It’s voice is soft, I barely hear
The words its forming in the waves
I stand, attenuated, like a deer —
But stillness breaks before it forms
My mind, it never finds repose
Whatever, now, this ocean meant
Is lost to space,
For heaven
Only
Knows
Abandoned on an aging farm,
I looked at it in silence,
A broken sort of would-be shack
That time had done some violence
And yet, I found it beautiful:
To feel a presence near
Of someone who I’ll never know
Who left his traces
Here
She carried lightly all her thoughts
Up to this late disaster;
So much within a secret self
She thought had long been past her —
She lost herself amid the lights,
And felt the city seething,
Out on the brink, the precipice,
Where all that’s left
Is breathing
The evidence: a stack of rocks.
The charge: unhinged humanity
That tries to bring some order where
Nature’s decreed
Insanity
“What is it girls want?” he asked
“I could not say, I do not know them all,”
She said, and turned her careless way
Across the water, two gulls flew
Opposing circles, while the waves
Kept time
The aged have seen off many years,
The wise ones understand —
The orchard’s slumbering, and cold,
As is the land —
I wish that I bore other fruit,
But from this, there’s no fleeing —
The tree that I was born to be
I’ll end up
Being
brittle phalanx protecting
the fading hills of ancient purity,
an archway
into another age, where
spirits were a sort of susurration,
and clouds, watchtowers.
being here now,
the murmuring continues,
but the understanding
has long since
died away
