On Things Now Lost Poem by Jay Richardson

Those things now lost or never owned
Like memories of wings or our water's sleep
Linger unobserved in peripheries of light;
Flitting like moths between vacant moments.
Until we half remember a smothered dream
Of oceans and broad blown beaches;
The sprawl of endless nothings
Hinting at landscapes without edge
And buildings without design.
It's here exist, and with pebbles
We build through time for form
And spin both labyrinth and twine.