the fleeced hour
is upon us, a shuddering
forth of what we knew,
this knowledge hewn
into the face of day
an appetite forlorn
and mourning for nothing
new

the question lingers
and stings like rock salt
did we manuever well?
and will our lives
find a safe harbor
without so much
giddy atonement
cos such things dwell
within and breathe

and so you are the tantamount,
more than monument
or park, something
inchoate and imbibed
a spell derived
from angelic alchemy
a destination meditatively
arrived
when feet desire the sea

and so there's
no country too distant
no photograph forgotten
and lost
there is only the truth here
sleeping between the leaves
and caught pages
for an age getting old
to ash back into baby skin
there is only the wait here
and the ache there
and there is finally born
you and me