The scene is cast,
The stage is set,
Embracing though we've never met:

This facelit ocean's endless, yet
So is this handless clock we've set.

I've seven supernova all
Gathered in a heap,
They're rotting under hessian
And their own dull heat.

The planting came in autumn:
Winter's for the sleep and
Springtime's slumber wakening.
Summer scythes, summer reaps,

Summer's plenty, summer feasts.
Summer plunders. Spring is sweet,
Autumn's old and winter sleeps--
Good lord, what did my summer reap?

Sorrows pinned upon the breeze
Delight in flight, as might the leaves
Stern autumn plucked from summer's sleeve
Gladly dancing death's reprieve.

The air is thick with sundipped birds
Of red and blue and tangerine
While watchers smoke on oaken stools
And black machines roar on and on

Dressed in effervescence,
All drunk through of colour,
Woven loose with counterpoint,
Singing in swelling crescendo!

Oh, how did you ever taste of constellations?
Set adrift on your oceans of moonkiss liquid velvet and
Dancing to the beat of lapping water and frigate birds.
You return to me sometimes,
All odd hours and confusion with your compass,
Somnolence and promises and
Twists of intermingled breath.
A cup half-drained my heart beats the same in
Dash and rhythmic countenance.

The perch of my lips, the curve of my jaw...
You're woven in the knit of my brow
But your map's all mayhap, crumple and
Softly spoken whimsy, folded twice and
Sealed with sighs and dreams of distant islands.

Farewell, farewell... ah, fare thee well with your gifted currents
And boat you've wrought of nothing more than your own
Cupped hands, enrobed in light and riven through
With loosely jointed daydream.

This dream is done, and
Now I see
Our gentle synchronicity.

Words in rows with
Fullstop beat,
Iambic heart and
Couplet feet
Pursued my pen with
Stately rage--
They chased it straight across the page!

Now their quarry's quit and done
They slouch off sulking, one by one.
The brave remain, by choice or chance:
Words in rows to turn and dance.