Parading

When I watch you dancing there is a

Recall that the universe

would that we could wake up   to what we were

How close does the dragon’s spume

Lift, wind, my exile from my eyes;

we were cured—had advanced

The train whistle still wails its ancient sound

We must admit there will be music despite everything.

Say goodbye to disaster. Shake hands

it must have been that I was drowsing, I’d been tired all day long.