This ability 2016-05-19

I once felt the sun as a warmth;
my skin tingled at the touch,
curled up in grass so soft…
pure shearing pain.

I once crested hills at the dawn
below me vast greens and space
so wide, so old, so magic…
two sticks to grocer's.

I once cooked some strange, tasty foods
inspiration from nowhere
plum vinegar ice cream
no spoons to eat.

I once spoke so eloquently
on any topic to mind
be law, or art, or newspiece…
my signs aren't known.

I once knew as first we touched eyes
that you, too, reflected
emotions purest felt…
mere silence — gone.

I once walked down sanctum inside
with its glade, cat, and stream
rest there, away from death
three graves — two mine.

I once wrote as if poetry
would just form verse from thought
chip off the words unwanted…
this, too, has passed.

"Shearing" is not a typo. Yes, the title is a pun.