In those light-drenched shots I used to make

Of beach plum colored by the island sun,

Summer summarized and done,

As picture-perfect as any eye could take,

In those hopeful fields of view

Lay a darker day than dawn,

As our younger visions tend to spawn

Brighter worlds than planets do,

And the shades of immortality

That gather at the brilliant rim,

Of those distant mornings (really/finally) only skim

The deeper fireworks of memory.


Rewritten November 19th, 2013



Of morning can really only skim

Of morning just ultimately skim

Of morning at the end just skim

Of morning by the end just skim

Of those distant mornings (can finally) only skim

can only skim

The crumbling chemicals of memory.

The unstable/crumbling/stale chemicals of memory.

(At least) These

The eye’s diseased and fading films of memory.

Our eye’s fading human/desperate/unstable chemicals films of memory