Poem: Present Past

 

 

Present Past

 

a spell from a mirror

thorough time had long shed,

 

and yet a single shard

could subsume the world,

perform it with no sound

loud as an opera.

 

how joyous,

even if breathed only a while, 

no longer a winding highway of clocks,

but resurrection:

a hint of tangerine,

a note of meadowlark,

a finger-glide of lost love,

redolent as a sonata.

 

here i am, there i was,

dwarfing the present,

this frail, swept place,

embodied in bliss.

here i am, there i was.

 

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9/9/25... 

7/22/25 ... lots of mods

Having finished the latest draft of my first novel, and finding myself unable to work on the second novel, I turn to poetry.