strung tightly
and twisted about
too much to hear
the pauses
between words
as allusions
monuments
for that other meaning
fed piece-meal
its collective reaches
near infinite
composed wholly
of silence
mornings pause
as usher
the new light
the land born
and felt
clearly now
with the cricket ceasing
a pulse
a place
where red markings
delineate
the illusions of night
the desire of
a new day
and your smile
waiting
my reply

monuments