Faces in Cold by Clive Faust

Whatever happens
just happens —notion
as real as the real, as the
‘illusory’. We

would hardly want it otherwise. Slow speech,
little understood, of a woman in labour,
tired of it all except …
it all. Where

there is birth, death, there is something —
whatever is to be confronted with, in death.
Clean words,

for and against each other —to be used
sparingly. Burning off, night’s
cold. Bonfire:
white hair, faces on dark
overcoats —memory
as a keepsake in cold. Put

the dried branches on it, it
could do with some more.

From: https://moonfields.org/clive-faust/faces-in-cold/

Date: 1986

By: Clive Faust (1932- )