justwrite 5 july

things have rearranged their properties the thieves are giving back their tackleboxes we are all fishing for something but only some of us are catching what we had intended to we are reaching through the glassy surface the water topping itself off we are scoffing at the middlemen we are ourselves finding the next route in cahoots with the silver shoots turning into hurricane lamps to carry the wind the light the green forward bamboo we are all lucky we keep our hands in our pockets at the right moments we are rockets into the sun but in a bright way not a dangerous one