"Whistled in the ear of your ear"

'Whistled in the ear / of your ear'
                   -John Weiners

returning somehow again justifies the place it meant to leave

the thrust of the argument goes


so thin falls out in the bath in your hand

wilted rose of my time

not mine anymore

and yet

eyes refuse

to belie or strike a tale

the spark of a stone is a breath

but when no breath  only two stones

 in cold light

we feel to be watching

a darker clowning

we are

watching burn

the second sun