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Seven To The Zenith
You see now
When you swarmed to the light
Strange little moth
With that glow you were drawn into the vortex
Of black and absence
Though your powder still remains:
Jeering gravity, mocking air
A scimitar of atoms
The only difference being:
Lanterns are not really sentient friends
But look, they’re gone now
As I’ve gone– to dust and ash
Unravelled the moment, the rest fell
Disappearing through the fissures in the floor of my fingers
With the touch of your tangles, through the hanging of hands.
NJP 19/10/2003
