409
here's
my
hat
what's
my hurry?
around the
moment
fire is
singing
everyone
has an opinion
flowers
wreathe
will sinks
in the well
you won't
bucket it up
it's as if
in a vacuum nearly
stars will
be properly bright
and none
of them as they are now
no stone
to set
not even
what we call simultaneity
we never
know the moment
but take
another gulp of air
the stars
when I walk out at night
off the
charts
the early
hours
when
you're not really there
neither
here nor
it's the
forest hears us fall
Terrific.
ReplyDeleteI said to myself, just at first sight: I love this title, then I must admit: I love the rest too!
ReplyDeleteHell yeah - that forest knows all
ReplyDelete