Wishing not though seems I am my hurried plans idling at the border looks like a head start courtesy of dreams listening to birds the penny pitched faraway long ago landing at my feet neither worm nor egg it's exile again but will this be my bed let me care a little
not knowing where I am
ReplyDeleteso dream
and not caring
Deletestill dream
sometimes in exile
Deletethere is inexorable truth
(Reminded of Malouf's great novel, "An Imaginary Life", now I must re-read it!)
Deleteas dreamt right up to the border
ReplyDelete