OK’s and Equals (part 3)

1 November 2014

Figures walking toward you in the fog look like they are here to conduct an
intervention.

Trees (birch – poplar – ash?), noughts and crosses of dusty dusk, stacked up (thank
you Klimt, for birches as a forest of upright, shed-snake-skins untwisting themselves
to form omens of indifference.)

Shadows flat as marks, and/or newly minted coins (as matter-of-fact, as cheaper-
looking than the coins of your childhood, but still worth collecting, keeping
and trading.)

Charcoal is 100 percent animal sleep (charcoal never sleeps); it does not hesitate
and neither should you.

Winter splits out of that seasoned wood when your hatchet bites it in half without
looking.

Thursday: mountains around here are hollow, skies are made of burnished wood
wallpaper; ergo, everything has false grain (but that is still a comfort around here.)

When children come home, the day starts all over again, everything’s crystalline,
which is to say slow, eventual, willing to separate in increasingly complex ways …
(Turn the heat on.)

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