865
inglorious 
 
here all among the bung ones
this trinket fiddle 
some euphemise for tea
a winter cough would take them off 
once in a world change 
striding
what bearing! 
and bearing into this world!
the love of them for us 
ours now
seasons come around
I have seen them 
myself feeble with 
sad into those eyes 
so seeing 
we sing a song
for words from you 
aeroplane jelly for me 
they know more than the tree does
less than the possum to climb 
there isn't an end to wish for here
are they alive?
they are
 
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.