To A Light
To light out is to burst into young legs
toward an opening in the newly made wild
toward the strain of gold machines we have set in motion
around the curtain of bad weather
in the opening of its glimpse the conversation flutters
like gardens that are the garden's brother
I say Pass me my book of gardens
to cultivate a generosity of opening
You say the gardens are heavy with saffron associations
and we are kneeling in its applied territory
a blistered web of circumstance
distributing the way we desire ourselves
having been built by these environments
Take your horn out of the night
garden of constellations
and vow me a club of body
an endlessly opening frontier of rapid sketches
pressed between the pages of knowing
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