Are we there yet
How long remains to be seen
anvils sink so it seems
buried in sand undersea
these things embed so deep
if not by gravity then waiting
an instinct keeps its secret
real treasures are covered
quite naturally not for finding
as in life and stories and romance
dreams and accidents dissolve
someone once said
that to find
one must seek
to discovery finally where
one did not look
pleading and crying
doesdn't ease or recover
what dislocation means
all those ears we lent to sears
their riddles and mysteries remain
fiddling and fumbling
across fresh pages ink starts to dry
someday somedays time-spent
just-staring passing wondering
hello goodbye
yet something still
must be done
a chore a feat a mountain-climb
face-to-face to liberate
dem curly questions
for some darn reason
now it counts
to hear that second note
sprung from an echo
ah ha
you see my friend
one only needs to know
you really are alone
another journey home
just begun
image: Bennalong / oil paint on linen board (9 panels) 76 x 109cm
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