A Sign In New Language Brash On A Tree//

What would it mean to you if you could be
with her there, dangling your own hands in the water
where blue and silver fish dart away over stone,
stoon, stein, like the meaning of things, vanish?
She feels she is somewhere else, intensely, sharply
because
of words; sings loudly in nonsense, smiling, smiling.

If you were really there what would you write on a
postcard,
or on the sand, near where the river runs into the sea?


Because the only motivation that I have is that where I am now, I've got nothing to look forward to after ORD. Doldrums.