Velvety Depths Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I pass over the hours in the layers blue,
Velvety depths and waves of its desire;
Regions forgotten bringing me higher,
Every motion that comes to and fro through;
Middle in the nowhere always some new,
Freshly lost strength the air and its choir;
Only for the windward molded quagmire,
Daughter of the flames soft in her shoe;

Earth is my root - its strange naked wheat,
Rich with water - a formula for clay,
All things devolve like the summer of gold;
Life with laughter becomes autumn's lone street,
Rotate hue tides into present of gray,
Escape broken rain shine - curves to unfold.