"Undergo," he said amidst the confusion,
pointing in the direction of the crop circle.
All hands let go at the same time.
Dams spoke for the first time, softening,
bowing, wet with tears for the heron, the salmon.
He stood on the street corner near the square.
Everything was built of people's thoughts.
Even the frames of his glasses nodded. Even
the big time piece there under the auburn sun.
The continuum, the continuum was undressing.
Colors grew bolder. His hand covered the sun.
His orange hand, that had made all this. His
blue face that knew the combinations, the clicking
sounds, the tumbling water behind the walls of protection.
Down by the station where the automobile was serviced
a cow stood as a cow stands, straddling the lift.
That slow, that careful.
4 comments:
What a privilege to get to see the continuum undressing. Thank you for this gentle, astonishing poem.
A waterfall of a poem Mr. Hardy!
Thank you for reading, Kathleen
And thank you, wet Kim.
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