Yesterday
Image from the web
Yesterday you needed a word to create dreams,
those golden reveries of mountainous aspirations
covering any distance, any terrain
without difficulty.
Yesterday you could start anywhere,
unawares, unwary, and let yourself
forget your destination, and enjoy
the going.
Today you feel the need to look back at the
silent desert
Of memory, and brush the smeared faces of
uncouth
peccadilloes white.
Today you wish to crush the beans and berries
under your hobnailed feet and forget those
words,
those sights and breaths that remind you
Of yesterday.
Yesterday you were born to the warmth
of a cradle song, to the cries of wonder
and love for your downy, blotchy form,
Yesterday you listened to the fire of youth,
you imagined the sun and the earth as your
legal legacy.
Remember the ten little green globules at
hand, and the
one in the sky, white and freckled and often
eaten away by a monster?
Today they strike you as dark, the white
globule, the white star,
you smell their green-white and imbibe stale
yellow.
Today as you tell yourself the story of
scattered eyes and
lamb-flock like dreams dropping from a blue,
blue sky,
you ignore the loud bird-noises and tell yourself
you were afraid of the sunless dark that blanketed
yesterday.
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