Kit Kelen #1379 - unspun

1379

unspun

some see into the past

some go there

it’s their vanishing

there are some never left

in a book one glimpses

in notes last spent

it’s time before the house was built

here I was

empty and bury each week

until an orchard grew

you know the tune

it sticks

hold an ancient coin in your hand

this was bread once

wolf at the door

imagine the weather backwards then

and the war

bombs lifted from the healing land

the corpse unstruck come back

saw you peaking out

like a first thing waking

far in a tent when

and it could have been then

still is

no bitterness intended

but better when we’re home again

Jerusalem next year

and all the ancestors alive

at play

adore

that we descend

forgive that we forget

among the thrown out things

everyone pale

in an alley lost of fallen leaflight

or I am still

hidden in the fact

of all this merely feeling

stop here

an hour of anywhere and when

I have the pictures of us there

you at that age when  

hearts beat a way

the path ahead

strewn

world unturned

it’s as if you have chosen the times

butter smell

of the pavement in steam

certain choices yet to make

when we are there again

dead limbs spring to leaf

no one has ever understood this

I’ve dreamt the way

won’t you?