In The Huge Blue (From, The River Sings On) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

In the huge blue,
Are my wandering ways;
What is true and untrue,
Through the inter ray plays.
On to the clouds softly,
It never will stay;
The air full and lofty,
- Day after day.

Nothing is staying,
It's all eternally gone;
With your mind playing,
Till it's clear and done.
The vultures' banquet,
In a garden with looks;
To the mind agglutinate,
Until it - to it hooks.

Into new spring's call,
Alleys of living flesh;
The stranded districts befall,
For the new and the fresh.
Turning dusty dawn rips,
Dissolution of their faces;
Desiring coming apocalypse,
Beginning new abolishes.