all this is yours to keep
with a false sense of something wondrous lost
okay strike up one more time with that balsa guitar play
melodies no sweeter than the most sentimental of us can bear think
however not of what we once had and then let slip
away from this settlement is a whole heap of things that are
not this settlement and of such matters I say, why worry?
the water sugared by the underside of small boats, flaking
early morning drunk with a gulp by a searing day which promises
simply by refusing ever to give us anything leaves us panting
part actual thirst and part are kinds of thirst let’s just forget
happiness was never ours to keep but always yours to make
look out there in the shrubs I sense a scratching
presence a long eared big eyed something we could love
so let go the halter wear a hat and if you are thirsty we invite you then to drink
we have knocked this wall that was restricting us through
and the difference it has made in contrast to before is over-
whelming my wife says it feels like her kite has been borne up
by warm pine-scented winds yes we have left that time behind
us now forever the future is a wine-glass never to be put down
as it is never empty enough or even next to empty
there must be something fuller which fronts
the launch into the desertion of all the platitudes
let’s call it timothy
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