today begins


today begins with the choral arrangement "will there really be a morning."
turn to page eternity in your handbook.
our voices must meet in unison somewhere above the city
and balance in g# near non existent towers.
the echoing effect might just get us through to lunchtime.
what with the slant of today's sky
and the later convergence of variable, conflicting winds
which I read would take place around sunset
your wish-fulfillment fantasy is bound to occur.
up here, bound to linger even when we descend to the streets and the stoops
to lose ourselves again in the force of blind currents
and sing the songs which ask about the night.