66

Where do the notes take place?
Where are the loops?
Sometimes I sit in my recliner
In the late Sunday afternoon light
Children tinkle, coins spangle
Through trees over the neighbour’s fence
I take-off; I’m unbound
like a Montgolfier balloon
This time (ici, maintenant)
I’m good for nothing
I keep a jumble in my head
Of all the spaces between the named
Of all the numbered items
Of all the stars and grains
Of all the graceful pauses
The waxes and the wanes
The waxes and the wanes