Bound to meet again, each one.
Surely, you’ll understand.
We’ve been forestalled, but
There shall be delight; not
That we would try. You’ll see
Now, this is the nature . . .
Time . . . such that it’s presented
To us, with reserve—
Dreams in tips of
Little fingers outranged
Our capacity for growth
To such extent we were
Upset . . . daunted . . .
Surely you understand, now, the
Nature of our ways
When we meet again shall
Be a glorious day.
Senses stumble upon awareness of a
looming nearby, although invisible
perceptions rise intensely: suddenly
we realize winds . . . crashes against siding
Revealed by a door watchfully ajar
our shock: distinct drops obscure objects
flying past . . . pushing across unseen prairie
full dark of night save porch illumination
Rain and heavy debris carried on concealed
horizontal pathways streaming quickly
each helpless to escape or abate, to
avoid penetration under pressure
Puncturing, transferring materials
matter, substance to new coordinates.
–thirsty trunk feeds through the eye–