Poetry
Dear ghost,
I see you moving out of my past,
And into the present light and vanishing.
The light flickers when you approach, and I see your sublimation of light cut through the
Silhouette of my scenes,
A flip book of pages
Coming unstuck
Emotional agility.
Sliced out like construction paper pieces as part of the destruction of my time, here in its fleetingly
Impossibility.
Why is the blank canvas of the night so alluring in its vastness and it’s inkwell?
Droplets of a mercurial meteor shower and the shroud that is a protection cloak,
When I wrap you around me
I have invisibility
And cope.
Between the CMYK lights and the three hundred anecdotes and biographical sketches of famous composers and
performers before me.
All standing in on the stage in the sky as hydrogen and helium,
A reaction flickering in an unknown
Universe.
There is growth here,
Ghost.
When the plants reach for the impossibility
Of light in the visible,
and in a spectrum of blue embraced
In a
vantablack
mask.
9433
Reasons,
I stopped counting
In each curve of the fronds
A statue mutable.
Between the places I felt I belonged.