absorption

The storm was done
and so it fell
into a fine mist

of crystals spent
in shards or more
mineral.

The after taste
of iron
smells like the steel sky
blowing by

or coming
from my mouth
in thin whispers...








Painting by Arthur Partin (1842-1914), 'Misty Morning off the Coast of Maine', c. 1865-67, in Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons. 

Direction

The pod pulls past

super slow

And in one way

the future is seen

in a second

Under notions of nightsky temerity

when moon rises and shines

and stars fall and flame out

The past twinkles

inset overhead

A fine line

between the living

and the dying

dissipates

when we look too long...

Image credit By C.R. O'Dell (Vanderbilt University) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.