Cold Wet Chrome in Gray Sky/poem

If one cannot recall the sight

of sounds rippling upon time waves

when ideas of ever become never being still

born dreams flying clocks tightly saved

winding down

Then it is found something right left

disappeared for thousands of nights

in world’s shadow of power echoes laughing

a way particles past present and future

so much greater and lesser than neither

being and nothingness or

space and rhymes about it

with lists of plans sown in earthly furrows

for people that for a time held the plows

to sharp lines taken by the rains since

erased mornings and yesterday’s produce

building tosses sprouted as ground cover

plant structures for others

that wouldn’t know so many simultaneous memories

from origins to finite ends

with red technicolor notes of the surreal

like the Multiverse resting on pinpoint.