time is a simple thing
here
beneath low clouds
rolling in with strong winds
across this desert
where yesterday is buried
and the splintered remains
are wrapped in dreams
yesterday’s picture
replacing the truth
it has been an age
in this dark noon
waiting for rain
time is a simple thing
yes
time
recalled imperfectly
and better for it
songs forgotten
dances seen only in sleep
seeds of wildness scattered
in dust
growing
inward
it has been an age
in this dark noon
waiting for rain
time is a simple thing
here
waiting for the past to flower
cultivated in other gardens
seen from this
the fences are high and the gates are locked
it has been an age
but time
is a simple thing
it is not
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