On The First Day Of October

Alit along the current air did fall, in feath’ry glide, a-whilst my coffee waits, a crow.

Tanka Number Who-Knows-What

Energetic wisps weave; wander!

Sun sweeps; pandemic breeze.

I do wonder…

Talk! Sing!

Does it not realise?

われらはおなじゅうすりましたか？

Does it not realise?

Now sparse the signs of entropied life sit, floating despite th’impossibility.

Not.

Write it; move on.

Let me/it, at last, then, rise, buffeted by sound-waves.

Momentum felt as sep’rate moments: such is time.

Life’s a wander ’round the harbourside.

It’s a long, long way away,
no matter how you hold it.