Thin Time
Thin Time
The equinox has passed again.
The air cools,
The rains sift colder yet,
And both light and dark are bent strange.
And you anticipate.
You anticipate…
What?
There are things you cannot name,
They may be unknown,
They may be forgotten,
They may be nameless always,
Or you may not name them aloud,
For that is perilous.
The bristle at the back of the neck,
Are you hunted?
Are you sought?
Will hot breath follow?
Or cold exhalation?
Which would you rather?
In this moment,
That choice is not yours.
Somethings,
Some things that pass unrestricted
Between the light and the dark
Are not concerned with your preference, no.
Time and permanence are grown diffuse,
Fabrics stretched to capacity,
Filters unbound and untrue.
Disreality closes on the world,
And those things seen in the eye’s corner
May really be there,
Or were,
Or are yet,
Just beyond vision,
Or worse,
Understanding.
The equinox has passed again,
And has pulled the curtain thin –
So thin,
And so close…
Is that hot breath,
Or cold exhalation?
Which would you rather?
Cliff Lake 10/22/2024
Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024
Comments