3326. SPADE TO SHOVEL

SPADE TO SHOVEL

'Dear child, you are awake and given each

possible thing to savor : the shovel on the

land, the spade on that small patch of ground.

Now understand nothing more than this  - 

you must go on.'

-

When people tell their tales and stories,

I must listen. Need not genuflect, of course,

but listen. Yet now, yet now it seems this

heart will burst. I will miss you evermore.

The needle-jet circumference upon open

waters circles out; spreading its waves,

its open form, upon the sea. Coffee

from Wales? No such thing.

-

Do you understand this waking mystery

I present you? The gum wrapper on the

pavement, the little cracks in the pane of

glass  -  each of these in their ways too

bring me forth to tell to you. Pain. Fusion.

Want. Longing. Pain. Fusion. Want. Longing.

-

(The Sun has really no value now. It

oozes a useless light on varied things).