Expectations, of change?

What is leaving
but
a new beginning
does the page
open again

is it a new book
or a new chapter

Writing that seems to melt
Make it known now
that
the oysters are
clambering
atop and sliding

Mix me a potion
Close mine eyes,
The airy azure
darkness
painted
behind the eyelids
never leaves

shrill notes
a cacophony of sound
bedlam and morass,
Take me where the
plaintive
trills of birds sound

and still the leavings
resound