I have this—I have
Half and half, I wonder.
Wander my mind like thunder.
Folklore to my soul;
Bring soothing more.
I reason, do you?
Treason too new,
I say. I say.
Perhaps I’ll sit for today—
Another day than another.
Then, maybe then, I will slumber
Jolted by the Morse—tapping
My my and yours overlapping.
This is this and this is not.
I lisp the thick with an accent like ‘tis.
Fumble between realities,
Book cover after book I cover;
This is you child.
This is new child and old as time.
So is so and you live so.
May you sow a wistful note.