1319
a day fades
into the year
for a field guide to Australian clouds
birth death wedding
declaration
peace
in towers of the wind blown to
advent of illness
guilt
don’t know how this got started
it’s curtains and the cows come home
certain dates have been hidden
the saints
or my own death
someone lit on a branch but when?
the lice under my wings
un-noted
uncertain moments in conception
those sums
irrelevant now
some patch
that cloud we strove to resemble
a diary of appointments
calendar of seasons
this one we tear from desk
yellow and gone
or you could say golden
the ends of furthest stars
long since
but we’re here together now
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