What people said, what left the table dark.
None stayed inside the house, nor close around.
Each direction its direction bound.
Like when you leave the arcing thing to arc.
Like papers gather papers in the park.
We note the wind is what can't hold the ground.
While hearing transfer stations fill with sound.
And let the city alter a remark
a little further from explaining what
was meant. A creak again or just a creak
right then. Like leaning forward on the cart.
A structure falls to stay its every strut.
I'd like to speak. I said I'd like to speak.
And someone sighs, they broke the silent part.
The Greenness of Grass Is a Positive Quality
Morning was when we decided if not for the grass rising then wind shifted the film even as your fingers said wind can’t shift film inside a camera.
What inside the camera couldn’t be shifted from grass rising to a tree without the film shifting the tree black we decided was purple with light between your fingers.
Was the tree light between your fingers?
Or was the curtain along the windowsill how we didn’t measure the width was where the wind was coming from?
The moment the wind was light inside the curtain was when we couldn’t keep the grass from rising inside the camera.
Or where the grass was rising inside the camera was when we couldn’t see the film was shifting light between your fingers.
The moment the tree was light between your fingers was how we ask could the curtain have kept us fastened from becoming weight?
How were we to know where we were morning wasn’t the same as leaving an outline we could picture a yard as the width we asked to carry weight.
We counted that morning as the curtain shifting to grass which suggests any measurement is always time.
We were dark or unmeasured before the morning was the moment you were both the grass and shifting the camera between your fingers.
There is no measurement for how nothing could be morning after the camera shifting grass was light between your fingers.