Wednesday, September 30, 2015

I can see why you thought


I was gone
transformed into the shapes of shadows
of a dancing butterfly against the fence slats
of a vampire bat who changed his shift
or the wolf spider watching the broken winged crow
these were once me on the dark side of noon.

I was here-then there's was none
no empty room in the granulated chute of light
for this forsaken passive body
to occupy or entertain
I remain one
you cannot see, the undertow of echo
Your assumptions have found me
displaced.


Image By Ministry of Information Photo Division Photographer [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

No comments:

Post a Comment

And then...

  Change is like that strong smell of cut grass or chopped wood that stops you still. Patterns, a symbol can be an illegible sign,  at first...