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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