The Days of the After and Behind

I was walking in the dust Through the half-closed spaces Incrustations of mud and dew Resins dripped in the stone I discerned a man, alone Frightened eyes, red of pain I was walking in the pale wintry sun Through the substrates of the wind Mosaics of clouds like raging herds I discerned a crow, fierce, scanning the horizon Vitreous eyes and silver tears Notes of a new pentagram White pages ready to shelter obscure mysteries I was walking in the dust Through the half-closed spaces Incrustations of mud and dew Resins dripped in the stone I discerned a man, alone Frightened eyes, red of pain These are the days of the after and behind These are the days of the after and behind The days of the present, that rolls by slow and full The days of the present, that rolls by slow and full I was walking in the dust Through the half-closed spaces Mosaics of clouds like raging herds I was walking in the dust Through the half-closed spaces Vitreous eyes and silver tears