good
morning
has the feel of miltonics
practice
makes perfect the start of the day
light
upraising the regular patterns
as
if today were both norm and the new
soldiering
on through another epoch
a
complete address of all existence
or
just today not precisely the last
nor
exactly the first as nerve ends attest
wakefulness
requires breath space and line
boundaries
inspiring stop and flow
measure
a life with the new present known
pressure
only what is within range now
until
the norm is exceeded again
the
nerves early renaming sensation
a
business we know all too well
but
the sun not nor the world at a guess.
good
afternoon
thou art an ode
commanding
responses and yet
receiving
them relieving them
of
their pent-up spent-up demands
oft
midst the old hurly-burly
of
thy full-on complexity
redolent
of every cliché
thy
charms burst to full fruition
circumambient
fluttery
polychrome
lacustrine restive
piebald
crinolined roseate
gymnastic
aerobic easeful
fulsome
rendered pervasive fazed
substantial
triple-decker vocal
serpentine
smooth cacophonous
words
cometh thick and fast full blast
quick
and vast for thee afternoon
come-what-may
month-in month-out mouth
open
eyes wide feet fleet hands ballet
rain
or shine incomparable
some
would say inevitable
flawless
in thine own fair terms
transcribéd
by thy secretaries
chairpersons
of quotidian
quote
me as thou passeth next time
the
hours of free composition
good
evening
too soon however you spin it
majestic
in light these visions embody all
we
know for now of flesh and thought small and tall
modified
slightly into a handy sonnet
wanting
all up-to-the-minute infinite hellos
beauty’s
best earth’s hits up the lift and over the wall
whatever
slog or jog afternoon rushes ready to fall
foreshadowed
by shadows line-lengthening shadows
into
the shadow of the form’s counterturn
where
the glow goes out night’s lights come on again
majestic
in dark these visions embody all
thought
and flesh left wondering how the sun burns
that
too soon however we spin it it’s plain
has
gone our words mimicking its scale in recall
good
night is
this closing epigraph
what’s
left of entire paragraphs
a
lullaby like you
an
unspoken haiku
snoozy
song snatch an epitaph
