The Wandering Float

Time is The wavering ghost The fresh pour of cement Your cousin's dark side My own best intentions The family of cardinals The bag of doubting marbles Your mind's lawless parade My anger shoved into the sad compartment The act of changing one thing The moon's lost rings Your evident gladness My hide-and-seek gratitude The watch still in the box at the store going out of business That morning in my dream I've yet to have with Your face in My hands The wandering float