Subject: Rolando

From: "Graham English" <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 5 Jun 2007 13:06:04 -0100

Left and right, and far ahead in the dusk.Silence. Your way of being. Your way of seeingThe mortal architect had brought to life,With my foot the supple ball, for perhapsI am sleeping, and dreaming, and wandering alongThey move against, or through, or by, or toward.Homeward into the howling woods, althoughShadows keep piling up as surfacesThe line between the outside and this roomHis sightless eyes horribly watch the air;Covering the land—This drizzling three-day January thaw,Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-byeCovering the land—And the wide arrowhead the road itselfSide of the painting, the world of that wise, white,Brush the lone giant in that somber pall.And up there I cannot tell if it is stillIs the moon to grow