there was thing

to write about

yet

i forgot

it

tapering off into dots repeated
the fall is abrupt and possibly dramatic

‘ you mean it were the settings that was wrong ‘

yes.

‘so it was all your imagination?’

yes.

when you say gray, do you mean grey, as in lady jane or earl as in tea. when you say grey, do you mean gray, as in mary, my friend? do you mean that we all come from different countries.

we named it best eleven.        dark the day,          we are survived.

light came, we saw the green ness of it all.                          we live in the country.

pool of fear,
the fright of interrogation,
guilt,
i hear.
from where comes the mourning,
late afternoon,
and evening…

goes where it leads me, a kind of conversation between me and the work, but drawing on what is in mind.

“kind of a diary?”