ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 7
7/30/08
mud my friend from youth
a bee's track through the air
the garnering that surrounds us
in mid-summer going on
in or out of sight
made things
the fields made by fences
and by what is done there
the days made by actions
and by what the acts
hold within them
the fullness through which
we cannot see the whole
so full it is is what
we can speak to or
let speak through us but
will never be able to put
completely in speech
let it let it
be never to be
fully stated for
when the statement
isn't quite right
it isn't in it
at all
and at day's end
the failure completed
all night falling backward
and never a bottom
the only hope of
all this talking
to myself before and in sleep
of what has
just passed
is that if what
I left of words
in order was
like what I was left
that is what
was meant by
enough