MS-HRC-SB-7-4

my way is in the sand flowing
between the shingle & the dune
the summer rain rains on my life
on me my life harrying fleeing
to its beginning to its end

my peace is there in the receding mist
when I shall ^{rest from} tread^ing these long
shifting thresholds
and live the space of a door
that opens & shuts.

what ^{would I do} without this
world faceless incurious
where to be lasts but an instant where
every instant
^spills into the void the ignorance of having been
without this wave where ^{in the end}
body and shadow together are engulfed

what would ^{I do} without this
silence where the murmurs die
the pantings the frenzies towards
succour towards love
without this sky that soars
above its ballast dust

what would ^{I do what I did}
yesterday & the day before
peering out of my deadlight looking
for another

wandering with me whirling far from
the living
in a cracked space
voiceless among the voices
cooped up with me.

I would love my love to die
and the rain to be falling on the graveyard
and on me walking the streets
mourning