metonymy4u

i am nothing that upon nothing waits
i am the song that sings its end
i am morning.
i am fire and a universe of risk,
concealed event which craves
its instant use and end of instant risk.

i am the arrow and secret of purgation.
i am imagination.

won’t you take a moment of a day
to publish me in your heart someday,
kiss my photograph in some tarnished abode
tenderly walk numerous ways,
and by your art discover, though i lie still and cold,
you did not wish this life untold—

caught, it laughed!

it washed the new with the old.