time if it rests
Time if it rests will rest right here
and all hang suspended from one of these clouds
itself hanging from an ambivalent sky.
Celestial bodies descend upon us here
and linger in these narrow streets, these wide roads
among the fog and flowers,
and we might mistake the starts for irises
exploding themselves in the garden
as we, like the earth, revolve around them
pulled by the gravity of their presence;
these roses erupting supernovas in
galaxies of green, impervious, erstwhile;
the light folding and unfloding from below
(this fog floats below us)
or maybe behind the clouds.
Time if rests will rest right here,
though Spring sits curious and impatient.