Our sky is then and endless,
A stretch of blue day
And a limitless reach
Into overwhelming history
Among the shimmering winks
Of forgotten suns.
Our Earth is now and finite,
A patch of brown
Swallowed in triumphant aquamarine
And stamped by
The footfalls, fumbles and foibles
Of topspun today;
The homogenous now
Of letters never sent
And willingness eroded
By the corrosive winds of obligation.
Our heart is again and over
A thudding belief
Strung high among whisps
Of pulled cotton cirrus,
Dissipating like fates
And entwining as do limbs
Of lovers at rest.
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