If
one cannot recall the sight
of
sounds rippling upon time waves
when
ideas of ever become never being still
born
dreams flying clocks tightly saved
winding
down
Then it is found
something right left
disappeared
for thousands of nights
in
world’s shadow of power echoes laughing
a
way particles past present and future
so
much greater and lesser than neither
being
and nothingness or
space
and rhymes about it
with
lists of plans sown in earthly furrows
for
people that for a time held the plows
to
sharp lines taken by the rains since
erased
mornings and yesterday’s produce
building
tosses sprouted as ground cover
plant
structures for others
that
wouldn’t know so many simultaneous memories
from
origins to finite ends
with
red technicolor notes of the surreal
like
the Multiverse resting on pinpoint.
