The First Upheaval
For most of my history I stood at the edge
then one Tuesday I shift in my bed, and
the first phase:
Each day the content gets up
fine growth of cloud thick country
It is I alone who made it,
The consequent interruptions continue
In the final moment of the first
upheaval, the self
(Still, I'm having trouble finding the path [pass?]
All the same, the bed is re-made each morning.
|© Copyright 2006 Claire Hero & Trout.
|This issue of Trout is sponsored in part by UNESCO.