I fall alone. I have blacked out.
A darkness now envelopes me,
reification both of doubt
and also of uncertainty.
A dream begins to coalesce
amid the bursting stars of aught:
A bone, a wing, dark paths, endless
images uncontrolled, unsought.
A meaning seeps out from between
the tiny cracks that draw or trace
their jagged, concrete lines, unseen
upon knowledge's ediface.
I spin in space. I harbor fears.
The moon is white. I taste my tears.
Awesome poem! Reminds me a bit of Emily Dickinson, probably because of the meter, but also because of the intensity of the images, and the punch it packs word by word.
Posted by: Bob Gehrenbeck | 2017.08.04 at 21:27