Turns out a cloud’s a verb –
constantly coming into being,
and where does your skin end?
What’s the edge of anything?
All these things – straight lines –
turns out they’re spirals –
things are twistier than you thought –
everything’s part of everything,
the air’s opaque,
the earth moves,
the leaves are starting to turn –
to change their colour-
time sweeps on.
There are stones in the river
sudden humps and hollows,
but we can’t see them,
and the air’s a landscape,
hills and valleys,
everything’s going all the time,
there’s no place to just stand.
A stream of consciousness for Grace at dVerse.