Monday, August 09, 2010
Can't tell the forest for its age
This is what I will look like when I’m old.
At that age, you become a kind of geography.
Imagine a cloud.
I am on a mountain
and reach out
My hands go right through
When I’m old, I’ll be more like remembering.
Yeah, with parts that aren’t so clear.
Did you say pants?
I walk into the yard
sit on a deckchair and look up.
The sky has plenty.
What did you mean, ‘geography’?