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                                in a park by the smell of water
                                in the mist all day
                                through railings and sun

                                young trees in the grass
                                by a hill of mud and rubble
                                that hadn’t been turfed yet

                                          one day
                                          in 1956

                                his chin reared one way
                                his tie pulled aside
                                and his collar opened





20th century wormhole: bass slap
grass wormhole: green
mist wormhole: walking over / Shooters Hill
park wormhole: park
sum wormhole: open window
trees wormhole: when things fall apart
years wormhole: 1973