the distance

now,

morning blasts the call
of sword
above the meadow membrane
veil,

birth is over

standing,
hang-armed in the rain
youth anointed
by fiery duty of Time,
mortal iron sweat
anointing
broken bones beside
the rails,

pure collision

souls and eons
spiked
in silent promontory walls,


final bell

no ode day

out of the blue morning light
on the windows
enfaced with lonely people watching closely as today begins to pale,

i stand to take my oath-of-life
straight, again and groan to know
man's original blues booming in the Vastness
of the hollow human tweet,


no hope
only the still-born happy glaze
of sailor out to sea
though listing badly in the nest,


while the morning light is falling
blue
on the windows and faces
i smile to know

that

Nothing

is always

there