Dedication to No-One.

Part 4

Once on a dew lit evening of spattered windows and tattered wings-

When the wind lay in rest on the rustled tree-tops and let free the aged leaves

Dried gold in the boiling light from the lonely sun-

Held high and glorious in its simple suspension.

Expansion lay open and naked to the clouds below

And the young earth dancing around its destroyer in lively pursuit

As day time hours slip into midnight showers into pit-pat plays

On rooftops stained green with rot and riddle-

Play tag with flute and fiddle

And juggle bats with space and spittle

Lay to rest in graves of gravel and clay

To rot and roll another day-

To laugh and say-

Yesterday: the passing pull of time and space,

Raging rivers of its escape-

Weep and willow- the ways of change,

'til tide and pillow rest them away

The dark of hearts mark the glow-

Spattered blood on whitest snow-

Rattle on, on through the cold-

To lands of doing as been told-

To shudder and shake through evening cold-

To stumble and stand until very old.

Let die! And rest, in tides of time,

To give and speak our last rhyme.

To wriggle past the ways of them

And make the ways of better men-

To all the gold and all the prize

To all the things laying in disguise-

Toward ruff and rail

To birth and abort-

Toward times of failure and life support.

Race to the heavens,

To down below,

That hang in suspensions of their own.

The human illness-Dread time ticking-

The mental plague-Of love and lonely.

Shake us free from trees of green leaf-

To rest and gathering beneath.