Tuesday, September 25, 2007

untitled

Sirens’ sound pierces air, cuts this peace
into a thousand parts, condradictions.
In this space earth meets sky, both turn their backs
and cloud is borne in emptiness between.

As if a fly,trapped, ‘tween panes of glass
in murderous sanctuary, maddened
by the free fall and flight of crows catching
wind, bragging blindly aimless liberty.

Two clouds appeared in such hollow space, one
eastward bound one west; one forked breath set
in opposition to itself. I stood
witness from a deep hillside stone cradle.

And on the ground sun cast dark arcs through cloud
managing to shine, weakly, a small path;
met at both ends by large pools of gold light:
an hourglass, born from the obstructed rays.

A reflection of the plight of cloud cast
down on the city of man, faint visible
lines of restriction in time and in space
reminding that nothing on earth is free.

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