Dare Mender

On the Years Spent Watching the Fall

Dare men derth, on a rundown sun?

to little they say "too long,"
old bones play the saddest songs
and win the most games, for somebody

I could leave tonight but i'd not get very far
because I can't leave without my hat
it's slits still on the weaver's board

I said I love through
after pondering the framing
my eyes settled into the space

An old dog outside the milling wheel
He watches the words on the wire
but does not understand them

the porter's crying at the station
is he arriving or departing?
Or am I?

wander wonder wail at water's deep-lined and haunted halls
when the dirt weal dies, will we remember
the years spent watching the Fall