I wish up the falling mountainside
scree rolling past in foams a tide
wishing down against
as if my purpose was the act
to counteract
or along a barreling oceanside in
frost and high noon
above a relinquishing patchwork of sky
me harvesting shells drinking rain
walking until
the dive into whatever else which is
not art nor love-song nor peace
but for all their origin before they became
word and I this quiet man
inexpressible desire
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 12:13 AM UTC
I wish up the falling mountainside
scree rolling past in foams a tide
wishing down against
as if my purpose was the act
to counteract
or along a barreling oceanside in
frost and high noon
above a relinquishing patchwork of sky
me harvesting shells drinking rain
walking until
the dive into whatever else which is
not art nor love-song nor peace
but for all their origin before they became
word and I this quiet man
inexpressible desire
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