Peter Dent
Daylight coming round
the words themselves
Begin with morning Commonplace
Of worlds we know both secular
And regular tilting colours to
The colour of your text Abandon
What it was you thought came up
That long night through its sociology
And long amazing dream All that
Was metaphor and useless Take
The rest that will not listen
Coming only as you hide and fail
To hide Across a dull horizon
Endless aren’t they drifts of geese
The same Their dark formations
Broken will not make for camouflage
Be glad there’s no fire here to warm
Be glad of paradox Thin air
That will not till the text is settled
Let you in And there is something here
Be sure Exact You cannot quite
Make out And it is metaphor
Page(s) 49
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