One Morning When Winter Thinks of Beginning
sometimes
there's nothing
not a line to trouble
pick up the brush
and it's all been said
then the mind is cloudless
trees just as true
not a thing
you have to place
then you're deep
in the pond's-top sky
that's one more forever up
ducks taking off
their green is golden
and it's blue too
you go a little further in
come by the end
to your own breath
that was
the first of you
that will be last
you know that you
dreamt all night
and dreams now are with their kin
some mornings you haven't a clue
why you woke up or what's to do
but then perhaps it's you're the inkling?
deep in their misted paddock
the cattle are a terrible bellow
you stand so the sun has your back
Windy
gets under and lifts
all about to take off
it's up your nose
you're teary with it
all the highest, most recent limbs tested
with this thrash about
can a little bird tell through?
no dew on a windy morning
sun's in the wing that's turning
casting its arc for branches creaking
swayed with the tops
a camera alone can catch still
Part of the Vast
under a streetlamp
dip of the moon
spectacle of no one seen
anything could pass here
light's spread white
world's shrunk to this
all round the night
stars are past
the over-us is all embracing
lifts every scone and trunk
we're dough rise to it
the tree tattooed with standing
and all the weather in it
the rocks are dear life hanging on
because this world's a stone
and hurled!
and duck!
or who's to catch?
The Turnaround
morning's still
and notice that my neck is scarfless
one more pair of socks would do
all the timber tangle's green now
ducks take off clean as the blue
not a frost but thoughts that way
cattle are a paddock gone
do I have right hat for this?
nothing itches anymore
there's the brisk instead
I'm not walking away
I'm walking into the sun
A Blue Truth
(Sunday early)
somebody's home is a first thing fire
sun picking its way through branches
we're in this stand of fuel
all meaning what a leaf might turned
somebody's wings set the air abuzz
wind gets away in your hair
things show themselves in a certain light
otherwise you wouldn't see
somebody's song is one chord shy
lyrics are lost to the track
sometimes, eyes up, we speak
of the trees as if they were ours
when we are such
a long way down
(Sunday early)
somebody's home is a first thing fire
sun picking its way through branches
we're in this stand of fuel
all meaning what a leaf might turned
somebody's wings set the air abuzz
wind gets away in your hair
things show themselves in a certain light
otherwise you wouldn't see
somebody's song is one chord shy
lyrics are lost to the track
sometimes, eyes up, we speak
of the trees as if they were ours
when we are such
a long way down
