893
one
for the endlessness
there
was a time we lived in the rain
said
it for a forest
then
we travelled in a rug
that
was the garden shown
fountains
and flowers
no
trouble at all
must
have been smoke we cast through it
heard
tanks filling from
all
glisten to the tip we were
and
the rangy arbour
spilt
into its paths
so
seasons came
in
works and days
in
all this treasure
and
we had forgotten it
glint
still to name
fire
was a scribble
we
took down then
and
stole again, again
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