On a pale-lit, near spring day
- how long ago I dread to think-
we walked along the water of that lakeside park. 
The chill as yet uncracked by the warming calls of birdlife,
though a surprising gentleness had all at once invaded
the stillness of our afternoon.- An anticipating glow brought suddenly to mind
The passing of the private season and
just because we lacked a better pretext for companionship,
we had come here ahead of the eager strolling masses,
who spilled their laughing loud activities all summer
onto the as yet barely breathing water..

Porous,
of petrified drips, bleeding through time.
A slab of meat flung onto the bones of this land,
over its sores, its much burned earth...
Salt bushes rub barren black sticks beneath a steely blaze of sky.
And all the sheer pain seems to - any time now -
press the colossus up beyond its foundations
to make it roll towards our white and dreamless fears
with the inhuman, uncompromising consequence of
rock: Core gathered wrath come alive!

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