05 May 2013

















2162
The present is another life
Than one that's long past due,
What was fixed is missing,
What is here is you.
Imagined as a blade of grass
In a winter's field of snow,
Is such sharp delineation,
But not a one you know.
Sufficient to yourself
Is its imagined foreordained,
Made consequent by time,
So imagined, explained.