‘I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now’

Doomed dust; thrust from a womb
Out of dumb lusts begotten
A birthing done forgotten; a wet thirst
At once nursed; then days’ rehearsal bit-parts
Not yet written; deeds no pattern
Eyesight no labels and thought bides vegetable
Unsighted to discern the eventual urn
Framing all context; and normative reflex;

Consideration uninformed, and set intention yet
Unarmed; one is a blubber gagging spittle
A pro-tem pod provisional, and query marked;
A sub-division, a minnow marionette,
Small player; a grand statement of a prayer
A chore, and also door upon sure wonder
Hereunder a blue moon, as like as zoom
Headlong into life’s marvelled mysteries

Gradually, like grazing sliding ice
Invasive at a slice come ponderously
Abrading downwards drawing scored out valley art
Carving in shaves heart’s clastic scree moraines
Natural experience bears
Wears imperceptibly its contoured years
The daily dallied decades
Of shaped impressive massif facades
An ingénue considers scalable
And strength available

Until impressed by tomb’s weight old age leaps a hay
Turning Malvolios all
Old scrawny factors
Born torn survivors, hands hang clung on wreckage
Time’s course far run, and life near gone,
And easterlies wintery furrows freely flow
Scouring steep hills, above a circlet moon illumes,
Makes merrily half a tune
Flung forth impromptu, ringing over homeward-hovers
Breaking through bright stars are contrapuntal laughing

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