I Saw The Girl-Child, Standing
A blaze-blue spirit, wonder-rapt.
I write another poem for to reassure someone (Me?) that nothing will hinder.
Watching, all the while, th’Egyptian sky, she breaks upward, stands, and steps over and between baskets of fish ‘n grain…
“Avast!” the axe-fall blade, abrupt, demanded death-industrial: it called, it falled, found its fortune to be laid upon the wharfway stone.
The past: t’was present, as the present: t’was pushed passed. The world: t’was floating ‘midst the passing future.
Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind…