Time is oblivion and remembrance.
-J. L. Borges-
. . . the present tense, the only time we’ve really got.
-Richard Lawton-
i.
In from blue-cold
apple-ripe-moon,
cup the chill
from your hands,
turn lock & key
to any lover’s door,
what you want
waiting.
ii.
Some few woke,
others so-so, most
lavender & lilac dreaming
new moon weather
hanging fire,
dreadnaught-sweet-slept
to the world.
iii.
Women once,
spiritstars on fall blast
sickle-moon-sent
downward to darkness,
on extended wings,
full of early, late fall
russet & gold earth,
oil, balm, pearl, clay.
