415
become
your own hobby
who
was it I hoped to be?
pottering
these late last years
mourning
time lost
to
serious affairs
then
the river I stepped in
ran
off
ran
dry
ran
toxic blooms
when
did this begin to worry me?
the
truth makes yet another attempt
as
a matter of fact it's with us right now
sit
still
for
beginner's mind
then
it's like
hearing
your own voice
after
your death
strange
rasping
but
sweet
and
then you won't know it
see
how relentless you were
all
your days
like
a cheer rung
till
here you are –
the echo
A very raw and try poem. This one makes me wonder if all is well with your health. I hope so as the poems you have been writing as of late are filled with an ever increasing sense of mortality.
ReplyDeletewhat is raw and try, Claine?
ReplyDeleteI recommend giving up the intentional fallacy...
my work does not reflect my health, or not particularly or generally
Not sure what word I meant to type now but 'try' was not it! Okay I will take a different approach to reading your work.
DeleteThe word I meant to type was 'true'.
Delete