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
