In the dark, anticipating the wall I should have touched by now,
it’s been way too long, taking slow steps I shuffle to anywhere

Positively some street from someday I thought I’d remember
hearing voices in treetops, in whispers of crickets

At night when alone on the fray under overhead stars under planes,
for that’s how I see things, eternally groping for words

In a pinch when there’s no recollection or meandering time to arrange
I finally lie down

Chagall 2017

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