evening pond.. cranes' beaks probe last of daylight melts in rosemary-blue
lunar-moult occurs once fins have fill of lacrymal-oceans pedestal left behind when raiment-sown into the slow-weave tapestry of awakening sweeping over this landscape with seminal-flow changing forever its inside-face
hear the unsignalled-whispers of the moon-child it all lies in that feathered-hope
squiggle.. squiggle.. this message portent on the palm of your sentry-pod rustic purple on wheat-coloured earth green-eyes smite the clouds its freedom moving.. ever-moving.. then dissipate into brilliant air temporarily changing the sky's face as the sun's eyelashes slowly meet
crawling onward on the surface of never
edging slowly to the sides now..veering wait to fall..
can't ignore the ever-giving spores lithe stems in a trance-like dance yes, there is beauty in this non-stop dispersing of that which asks nothing in return
there must still be
a massive glitch
in the time-score*
st - 9 oct
~ notes ~ life, she is a strange thing..
I'll catch the garment that the moon will shed invisible-rainbow to vision-eyes
in the next life .. .. ..
(descend thus from the sun, ye lowly-soul find yer hiding-place 'neath craters of old..)