ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 3
THE GREAT COLLECTION
seen in weak light riding
each other's shoulders till their feet ache
or walking stiffly disappearing
at times they are lucky
meaning the source
of someone else's misfortune
they improve their handwriting
they lie to each other
their names are too far away to speak
encompassed by their distance
our voices have flown to the trees
or further making a fainting racket
like fading birdcalls collected
in the great collection of birdcalls
fading off into the distance
and we have gone the other way
the other distance and here we are
slightly or greatly into it
with our hurt feet and the weight
they must carry but it is all to us
where we are and of course we believe
what we've told each other and frankly
where we were is a distance too great
to trouble over or waste time missing