 |
art
by Norman Lindsay ©
|
what
I have worn above the sky
we
seek lives outside
of
roots and despise
surprises
are in
cycles
woven deep
enough
not to notice them
up
close when
it matters most
that we seek
flesh and not ghosts
Sabbat
roamed mosses
over
turning every stone
to
find the rivers again
how
many bridges
can
you limb or lend
when
you yourself
don’t
always know
how
to swim
is
it the rhyme
or
the reaper
that
seeks all
we
keep here
I
can only say
with
the mildest
of
assurances
that
faith
in
something
says
you get to stay
do
you hear
whispers
late
at night
telling
you
not
to forget
names
or is life
the
sort of game
with
which the wheels
are
meant to be spun
fast
enough for the blurs
to
become still images
captured
leans
tell
me the rain
is
plain drinking water
outside
of molecular structure
but
I know better
as
my language
is
a poison too
leaving
trails
like
snails do
with
or without shells
along
the garden walls
night
after night
spelling
out we know
why
the stars fall
EJR
©
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