Those times when something has been effected. Taught always by the trying crying tenterhooks of knowing nothing but something else. Hillside ported to memory, simple ducks in water, trees in an instant. Earth includes a gravity field fitted in time. Trees pronounce trees, a given. Restless articulation fills the eye in, just in time. Beyond time trees contest and expand, voice and veer. Darkness lugs sortilege green. Whosoever shall offer sacrifice to these images, shall receive the everlasting turning soil. Appeasement grows grand. Effortless as towering, the spirited trees root out. Dryads cool. Popular phrases fly. Sleep ventures past radical. Something voices something. This time in those times remains.
It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.
Comments