THINGS I CANNOT SAY
Well here it is nearly Easter once
more and the list of things is endless.
Materials I cannot specify; things I
cannot say. The Moon arrives as
crescent - something meant to
grow and shine in silence. Yet,
what if it made a growing noise
as it went along its course, what
then would we do? And, I dare to
say, it does: the rip and tear of that
staying in space, while moving.
The heaviness of elemental being.
All objects, removed to their place.
(All good things shall rise again?)