That’s now (then) & here (there), though.
Here I sit.
A moment clear.
A live reading of “At The Entrance Of The Afternoon” & “A List Of Things I Noticed At The Harbour”.
I’m trapped at home again.
That’ll be distracting.
In one ear ‘n out the other.
I told her of the stag of memory; of th’earth; of private moments lived; of th’night.
With gracile step, agilic poise, ‘n purity he’d leapt from th’dark off to my right-side.
I see myself still strolling.
Lapped waves wash, broken-crested – I am young.
T’was o’er ‘n through this coastly scene we traced the tracks of mem’ry.
I perform great feats.
Endless as the fires of night.