And I’ve arrived
here,
like mountains
stumbling,
the sky
crumpled,
then flattened
into ramblings
worth saving.
Beat boxing
time
into submission,
a gentle rain.
Artistic dream
running like a fox
for the field -
I would say the same thing
again - things happen
when you least look at them -
only feel it - and understanding
comes after: but tomorrow
amidst all these
existential clouds
we can only
use our hands.
|