An arched cave mouth,
at deepest root,
light’s edge,
time’s edge.
Three sisters, grunting,
picking at words like scabs,
turning them over like rocks,
gnawing them like bones.
Groping, now and then:
rock, water, time,
cave, well, tree,
light, dark, eye…
Light and time pass,
time and water well,
everything has an end
and here it is.
15th April 2004
