The scent
of idleness
brushes us
by, renewing
energies we
thought lost.
franked and
labelled neatly,
message
them to runaways
and open
them in stealth.
woken in
fields of our minds,
creating
ever-new patterns
and words
we’ll use just once.
eye the
slither of grease & wet
the deep
slide on to canvas
of oils molten
in our hands.
Whale song
swallowed whole by the elements
in this bluest of cages sunk down,
beneath the echoes of all things.
the blind moan of the world below,
in the sheer vale of distance,
listen for the dawn of his song.
journeying the currents without him
while he lies suspended and still,
smaller life in sacred awe.
