The Fool. 1975

Never once in the time
I have known has
anything been so
sure. but it is and I
opened my eyes and walked
out into the night, bells
rang low in the dark valley
their frightful calling follows
me to the golden bloom of
in the early morning’s swallow
eye.

I quavered even
my sure hand moved slower
than usual. a swallow eye! or
did it mean, a field of golden
corn golded after the passing
of summers warm.
to rest in ...or by
chance did it try to tell me
of thing of my needing orange
golden bleeding of a never
to loose dancing shoes
dancing me to the
river of the
way home.
up above
the dark

marking this dark door
no matter how high,
I danced on after
first taking a
stalk of corn of golden
and looking marking well
the swallow’s eye, saying to
myself: never once in my
life has anything been so
sure. I surely moved slowly.
to my opened eyed night of
ringing bell questions
to the time of
next



which rained
down a
answer I did not
(knot) which is too
well want to see, the
hidden me. drenched
in pity of, of love
and all bell follower
that would come
after me trying to
see, find, be,
as a endless
mountain
all to see
or know.


while the soul
of free in me be, knew
that winds blew
only for the
lone
who shall
never know
say in a
all knowing voice
never once in the times I
have known has any thing
been so young sure. that
can’t be not danced
to in golden corn
to the calling of
a blind
swallow -