It’s been a while, there are wrinkles now around
Your eyes, your nose, your beautiful smile. And on the bench the
Remains of the day, will we face that? You asked. We may yet, I said
We still may. Now there’s time and there’s distance, and a rhythm for sound
And the shackles that bound
Man to beast, earth and sky, heart
And arrow.
It’s been a while now, there are boxes in memories and there’s dust
In the chambers’ deposit, full of anger and lust. It’s been all eroded
Corroded
By the kindness of angels, those devils that pass.
And on the lake the remains of the day whenst I prayed
Whenst I layed in my boat. Afloat, or just the dreaming?
Will we face that? You asked. We may yet, I said once,
We still may.
G.
from Drycicles
andreanum & co 