#207 ‘The night
someone played drums all night’
Enough happens
Maybe just enough
And always more
Could have
happened
Time is everywhere
Like the insects
And everywhere it
is
Unaware of us
Or the possibility
of us
This landscape,
it’s inside
Someone’s head
Right now at rest
at last
Who pocketed the
precious stone
who sent the
priest
who played the
drums all night
breezes slip
through wire mesh
settle down
beneath
a television in a
dusty corner
exhausted and thin
as starlight
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