(Note: This poem was originally published at the late Selcouth Station in June of 2022.)

folding the decade over on itself
acting normal and almost
succeeding passing invisible

through time and times unnaming
each moment as it collapses
with a whisper like the first

taste of sugar incurable childhood
never looking forward never
looking back no lack

of sunlight morning the only
day spring the only season
eyes in everything in bark

in candles in voices and voices
in everything in windows
in water in love in gravel

in blue stars haunting inner
ears in the sideboard in
the run-out groove but even

in this accident which passes
for choice the autumn
spreads its nightfall over

the names of every sorrow
and every regret trapped
in this endless decade