away away away

whats lost again
in the shadow
of the
sun new-
as
the
clock
has been refreshed
by imaginations long
handled mindfulness
shoes linger near
the
door
waiting on
each increment of
the
bloated sun
to harden
in to a summer season
so the owl may again
fly against
the fat
mouse holding
out for the same
harvest as this
human man
wanting the days
of ease to reign down on
each one endless
spreading out
scattered like seeds
on the dinner table
the perpetual grace
promised
to us at birth
by lies, by our mothers lies
the famous orange
of sunset and pink like
bath water in adolescence.