spinning

[Mopkins]

noice....


heres a bit of crap

Some odd years I have known:
Like bottles broken by a reckless drunken sailor
And jettisoned, were some of those draughts drunk…
Those blends of finite input, some rough and unfinished and
Reeking of pine boxes
Not mellowed oaks…

Older now I walk the beaches of Memory
Gleaning the waterworked and sandworn shards
Made opaque and interesting
By time and movement away from the
Place of brokenness and origin.

Running with the tides
Comes the evidence of shattered memories…
Pray they be
Smoothed by the passages of time…