Mould On A Pristine Universe
Appearing in a scene from a film
smoking at a bus stop
takes all the concentration a youngster has.
Us oldies have it different.
We must concentrate
being full of aches and pains
to appear light-hearted.
Worlds will emerge like music from noise.
The kingdom of ends (see Kant)
grows from a huddle against bitter cold.
In the long meantime,
practically infinite for the short-sighted,
read, circulate and promote my poems.