'you know me, or, at least you think you do'

– 'this, with a face':

the bare cherry tree,

the brilliant field,

the green-blue ground,

the farmer in deep thought, 

...the little sparrows;

their time

now past.

Sunlight -

the universality of things,

[“…there are no perfect waves;

there is no direction -

only a plume.”]

process is a lie - 

make a start,

and celebrate your brief life. 

what so common language to unravel?

[“what's that?”]

when the snow falls, the flakes -

where a heavy white day, 

a black river, once

white suffused with red…

[“why do i write today?”]

'this sparrow' –

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