Day of Mercury

sighted at its vanishing point on the

When in 1999 we lived the
days echoing
enfolding quietly,
lit in children’s weather,
gone by elsewhere,
a terminal brilliance
on a missed eclipse
of forecasts, unapocalyptic

As a test of
secular faith
As a sign that all
is forgiven in flight
forgotten by the sytheclocks
of water
and shadow
time unshrouded
from memory
swept back in
a hollow nova
(don’t open a book
for God’s sake
The scribbled of the dooms
are for the self damned)

I wouldn’t have thought
that the lilac would
dance out through the
breeze in quite that way
so unpatterned
or that there would be
that suspension of clearness that is
caught by the eye only
in a windstream that carries
Bach’s universe.

I thought of the universe
as an amusement for itself,
with no relation to physics,
without an idea of creation,
or the certainty of collapse,
or any other unreasonable human
all facts being relative to
Nothing at all.

Bugger! I’ve lost my place.