September

The grasses are light brown and the ocean comes in long shimmering lines under the fleet from last night which dozes now in the early morning Here and there horses graze on somebody’s acreage Strangely, it was not my desire that bade me speak in church to be released but memory of the way it used to be in careless and exotic play when characters were promises then recognitions.  The world of transformation is real and not real but trusting. Enough of these lessons?  I mean didactic phrases to take you in and out of love’s mysterious bonds? Well I myself am not myself and which power of survival I speak for is not made of houses. It is inner luxury, of golden figures that breathe like mountains do and whose skin is made dusky by stars.