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            in the 23rd century
will we live in neighbourhoods in the air
clustered around structures huge and bulbous like a
            frozen mushroom cloud

            and will we populate
in tribes and drift in loose affiliation
orchestrated across the vast and barren
            sky or

            will the nations
drift as décor and dissipate as culture
as the wind gets up and reveals glimpses of
            blue sky behind

            will the trees
stand rooted shuffling and shrugging
to provide perspective and direction
            of green silhouette

            and will the tiny
clusters of red berry just fall
or cling to the branch-squalls
            for later in life?

            in the 23rd century
will we forget our distant history far and
bluish on the horizon with hints of cream edgings
            to suggest event

            while distinct-coloured
burgundies and greys and blacks and even blues
once made their one-tracked progress passing on
            to somewhere?

            in the 23rd century
will we look at the grasses and thistles all across each other
under the great and wide and ever-present breeze and remember fondly
            the meeting halls where we talked

            will the old monuments
that talk silent of root and branch long and broad across the lands
have lost their leaves by now and wave to the sky, their windows
            see-through and open?

            in the 23rd century
will we live in all the words we wrote and sent to the skies
and remember only the ridges and valleys of the
            slow-turning earth and

            will our discourse
be shared to saturation and have no need of reach
or distance or hopeful-expression but drift along always
            in magnificent cluster?

            in the 23rd century
will we wonder lonely – in our silence – if light
has sound and dark has colour if far has breath
            and close has taste

            and will we listen
to the dappled pebble and graze the newgreen grassandbracken
and feel that we have done this all before but cannot
quite remember when we gaze upwards to where
            the gods must live?





Ashdown Forest & clouds wormhole: wraggle of architecture
black wormhole: new garden
blue & grass & passing wormhole: all the while / the flagpole rope / occasionally flaps / the breeze
branches wormhole: more importantly
breath wormhole: Saturday
breeze & horizon & living & sky wormhole: swifts test the chasm of sky
buildings wormhole: tired – diptych
burgundy & windows wormhole: the strange mauve relief of / this burgundy-gritty encounter
cars wormhole: we // walk
green & life wormhole: jagged panel
Have wormhole: waiting
history wormhole: how ironic
leaves wormhole: the sun / in a clean / industrial / sky
lifetimes wormhole: 32 years
light wormhole: thar she perched
open wormhole: the pleasant land / of counterpane
red wormhole: to share
silence & wind wormhole: (Little by Little)
silhouette wormhole: 1977
society & talking wormhole: the early morning of the sixties
time wormhole: some steps
trees wormhole: how hard / to meditate
valley wormhole: Peeks at Castleton
words wormhole: thar she perched