The shoes fit like gloves
onto the tender hands that caress
midnights fears away
like the wandering feathers
of an untied goose
blissfully
through the ancient
artifacted sites of quarries
like a curdle forming in cream
or a crystal growing
tenderly
the capsule arrives
and takes you to the golden forest
the passing lights of time
that thread a pattern
into wandering moments
past all mutual experience.
togetherness and isolation
the isolation of ideas into categories
the isolation of individuals into types named and defined
identified and pinned down,
your sacred soul
a whisp of light
song and dance tiger
we know your movements and are set on the
hunt with dogs
casting shadows upon the plane forest wall,
the sawdust residues of music
its dust blowing glassy threads
singing in pale light
the orchestra of chimes
the body following behind the wall
its black and brittle eye
watches you sit and think
while you pull levers trying to close the gap
between chaos and matter
4 May 1993 4:25am & 31 May 1993 6:58pm
Copyright © 2001 by Nicholas Alexander