Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Before All This and After All That

The emptiness was comforting,
In that, like zero, it wasn't
Odd, only strange. There was no time

To spear, nothing heavy on hand.
The sky blurred with the little bits
And pieces left hanging fire. Smoke

Comprised entirely of water
Steaming out of contact with earth
Hung from the mouth of the canyon.

The wanderer's reflection passed
Over the wanderer's shadow,
An elliptical commuter

Scripting the vortex of this fall
Down to the last gold rivertree
In the first old snow. I'm in here.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.