in time for tea we continue our
meaningless progression towards
purple thoughts and deep blue
                                                     living as we grasp whatever sign of
intelligence around without the slightest of
colour while encouraging hope itself
as nothing is obvious to the naked eye but
                                                             ­          time as it slows to a near retreat
ignoring all common advice towards
openness as it lingers in the still of the
night hurling us into the dark away from
                            somewhere we should be but are not