a work of silence
we move through this lonely evening
the sky
moves rapidly day to night
as though death (how presence
shifts) is a serious picture. the unstable
human hand against the frozen certainties
of stone
light gleams edges
changing the bell-shaped end of
glass, expecting light re)fracts
the sound after
wing-to-wing
the illusion is of merely
pause
in activity or weather. dark
skies, dead horizon
us into great spaces at sunset
what it is to move beyond the
mid-life hour
* * * * *
~1:54 AM 8/26/2005
©2005 by Ryan Laks
