Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Last Church of Old Ghost Highway

"you know what's weird?"
~ overheard overlooking the lake

The cathedral of present awareness is weird,
So elaborately concentrated and sheared

At the sides, where one expects external supports
But finds only the nothing that was and, of course,

The nothing that never will be. For the scary
And the willing to be afraid, sanctuary

Of sorts, a shelter open to the wind and all
Who are able to content themselves without walls.

Still, to say this is sacred is not to say safe,
The present, after all, denotes time, not a place,

The present-perfect present of vanishing storm
And spectral mists in the hills, regathering storms.

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