Wednesday, March 16, 2011

fleeting



fleeting
as specter
in mirror
shadow-jumps
from heart to mind
to gut

& back
over

insidious—
reiterates
that which is excised
& hollow long

nameless
by design
in universal tenor
wayfarer wind-song
mills on

& on:

this is where you
belong ...





4 comments:

Wine and Words said...

If it came on the wind, I would welcome the lift to my kite, wrap the tail around such a phrase and ride gently on the back of it. But it is not said, and I am not sure. I wonder still, especially now, where I belong.

Noxalio said...

ah Annie ... me too, mostly ... but i thought i heard something yesterday, figuratively speaking, and have been mulling it over ever since ... i can't reconcile what it really means in terms of actions ... but certainly a tug ...

Wine and Words said...

"hearing" anything at all is good Noxy. I have my ear to the ground.

Noxalio said...

hearing any hooves Annie? let me know if you do ... ha!!