02-11-2022, 10:21 PM
This poem was meant to be posted today. But I posted it in the rainbow of 10 instead of the Venus of 11. The pink color of the rose goes with this morning. And last night by the fire, blue forest and hills around, train in the distance, I had put the energy of Thursday night into the post and posted earlier in the evening, a weeknight stable subtlety. A night into the day.
The first section is Friday pink. The next no color at all.
A trick. Whenthingsgoasplanned they are inert; when not, they resonate more, in you, a pressure to focus on what could have been. Yesterday was Friday already in my heart (purely Thursday all about me), the aura of pink in my imagination.
These kinds of things are the way the poem functions.
At least the handling of it.
The next poem in this serious is called Tree-Man, which I haven't written yet. Then two I've already written. Then I'm done.
The first section is Friday pink. The next no color at all.
A trick. Whenthingsgoasplanned they are inert; when not, they resonate more, in you, a pressure to focus on what could have been. Yesterday was Friday already in my heart (purely Thursday all about me), the aura of pink in my imagination.
These kinds of things are the way the poem functions.
At least the handling of it.
The next poem in this serious is called Tree-Man, which I haven't written yet. Then two I've already written. Then I'm done.