Eight minutes the difference
Maybe climb the hayrack
Sit in contemplation
Drink a settled pot of tea
Thousands of times upon the waking
In or out of halfway dreams, where
Could the bare breast have came from
Heaven it is, only to know
Extrapolations, spent-fuel
Misfired imaginations
Overheard presentation of
Tree lined incantations
A single star, in a sky
At once so far away
Before a slow red sunrise
Turns on the weary day
Plagued by indecision
Fearful of derision
Indebted to the men
Of youthful circumcision
All across the frost filled grounds
All the way to fanciful minds
Thoughts plaid full
To the brim of fair silken mounds
