upon
Alaskan sunshine, awaiting to witness life, mothers as casualties; many
decisions, much indecisiveness, vows made into concrete. Sahara deserts,
nibbling raspberries, making seasons of the delights; wreckage, salvage yards,
filth and dice and studies—to have dropped the mirror, to have laughed in the
mirror, to have become the portrait of the mirror. so distorted and flying,
higher as a dream, so much of existence is mental. many thickets and briers,
when luxury appeared, the silence, the leaf, the old classroom. winter sunburn,
plant hoppers, infusion and insanity; crying at realities, singing inside,
sullen, going through opposites. the terror of the unrealized, the locke of the
shadow, the anima of the lineage. gazing at skies, sensing self, seeing the
horizon as it glistens—the falling rainbow, the wincing at the miracle, filled
with unbelief. debating the purpose of time, it seems mythical, imposed by
thought—a long letter to the ether. ferns and daisies, begonias and dreams, to
have perfection by the aging process. to flood instincts, disturbed by
perception, and fixed by conception. missing links, brains moving, hearts
filled with pain and duplicity; maybe distressed at points, maybe the best of
all winds, on a day you first laughed—overflowing with glee, too genuine to
cast away.
