I try
I try to give these naked dreams tactile surfaces.
To fill this cold and aching room with sweeter air.
But sometimes it seems the light from this window
is all that's there.
As I look up, forgotten volumes of distance speed away,
and the sign becomes its own meaning.
The messenger I saw slips away through a dark door,
and a mystery I hadn't foreseen unravels the moment.
Inside of this piece of paper I am writing on,
I see a pendulum swinging.
I'll go back to find it again later because I don't like to
lose those kinds of places.
~
2003