Not Quite Done

Triple Dream

Ian Davisson

I.

(obdurate, spreading out, the day leaks onto the field)

the sun so without a thought without a care approached

& while we settled our legs in the water by the hoopnecked reeds

& it seemed to her the rain would not be coming would pass

(so we can cancel it from each side & we’re told

this is the reverse order of a bridge or there no bridge)

so beckoned & together [we] wandered doubleeyeing the grey moat

counterweighted by the double strength of our hands so i say

last night when the moon wandered into the common space (i want to tell you)

i dreamed i was wearing a woman’s silk bodice peony-patterned

& rocks from her garden greyshaped began falling and

in my rarest voice i called smokesignal words in your direction

clouded by the smokestacks clouded by the industrial arches

& wire-white hands whip up strangle my voice in a strange dark horizon

II.

i go to walk my ,& my while later say to her .

i take my time to ,& to of what laid out here &.

of what laid out here ,being felt called for more

in the meantime ,some time binding & will apply

to me i think ,& think wait thinking

something ,improvised awakened last night

like throwing himself upon a grenade upon titanic grass fields

III.

in the ways

Her mouth opens “A pause, a rose,

“A pause, a rose,

the sum of us

repetition

dreaming of nature