prescience and news from afar,
the hinterland of the human mind creates a place within
yours and mine and theirs and ours is
ours and if we could turn down that rumbling
covering those beautiful voices i might remember to
ignore those that put dark brown drip stains on my four white cups.
so i look to the spring and cherish the amnesia of this dark and
in a cave
and i'm sure as you're sure
that had we time and a place within some
space, the coming spring might
and as the primrose isn't on our level concious
of its influence on my dreams
(or of its own saturated beauty?)
this season will beget a song
that can't be covered by even the most
grumbling grey noise rumbling in this heart
in this cave;
do you hear it? do you know it?
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