the days echoing

enfolded quietly

lighted in

children’s weather

gone by where

a terminal brilliance

is a missed eclipse

of forecasts


no test of faith

as a sign that all

seen in flight

is forgotten

by the water

and shadow even

time swept back in a hollow

don’t open the scribbles of doom

for self- cursed minds.

Who thought

that lilac would

dance out quite that way

so unpredicatable

so there would be

that suspension of

clearness that is

caught only once in

this windstream


                                       for Jan