looked
into the mirror

there was
nothing staring
back at me

could be
I'm free

could be
I'm free

Leaning more to
Winter now,

I set a silent
time aside

become a thing
crepuscular,

led in and out
of twilights.

This vintner's loss
of glass-blown height,

too intricate
to comprehend,

like promises
we occupy,

leads meaning
to an end.

As
if from
nowhere,

a dimple
of that far-off laughter

ripples through
the wavered spaces

fainter
than it used to be

indubitably
yours

In
our culture
of elusive truth

I
place
my faith
in doubt

And on this sluggard
mattress find me

slipping
from a cast
of frazzled intrigues...

A continental tiredness
has undermined
all frequency,
alleviated
monologues

and more...

Gone
overboard,
abating, freighting
ingots by the pocketful

To soothing leagues
of mazarine,

I

dolphin

down

invisible




While
off the prow
of Longships Road,

the morning wades in tall

A nascent scent of wet light glares,
cetacean skinned.

Invincible.

Light
is everywhere,

it is everything

mirroring off rock,
demolishing
ambit

cat pawed with downdraft,
blustered by gale
the channels scud havocs
of pyrite,

The sky, huge
an impossibility
of blue, defies
description

words are formed
tried and retired
tossed
on a blather
of gust,
unlistened.


A syrup of larks tongue,
-an ash of a song-,

Is all that is heard
on the day..

Is
not
these lines
just written,

nor
is it the
length of time
it took you
to consider them

Now,

is but
a slipstream,

a continuum
of reverb

a synonym
of echoes

in our vanishing
of space