The words strum through me
Bereft of thought
Each given to the antithesis
A harpsichord choir
Humming in limbo while the
Drops of water drip upon
My shaking continent
Awake with mourning
Singing on the trees
Each thought singing and singeing
Dripping into the humble
Multitudes, plasma and
Green. Delicate spines.
We entrench ourselves in
A tone that is mute
A hum that is silent
A Yew tree. An epoch.
Memory’s epoch explodes!
Dripping
Why didn’t you wake me earlier?
Why did you leave me here to sleep alone?
Without stars?
The verdigris continues to ebb at
The memory of what was lost
What will be returned
Musty pages. And the drills of
The day pursue the meaning
Sweet company, come over.
Join angels. Solitude in our continents
Jupiter (Don’t think!)
Take the web and linger
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