I just had the urge to write a poem. A real poem. Not a false start with a few lines but one with some kind of narrative, characters, and obscure hidden meanings. It took me about ten minutes so it proves that I still have words floating around my head. Here it is, to my one and only.
First you envision the stars in their natural simplicity.
Artificial lights removed.
Is it past of future?
Then you walk along the pathless ground.
Maybe remembering a crevice that once fought for air.
I may have seen the last of the seas or the creation of a wave.
I was going forward and in reverse. All the while. All the difference.
I was a savior and a leader of resistance. Machinery and fire is blackened by death.
I am going back. I will never return. I have disappeared.
The fourth of the first, creating and implying.
Fragment, I am. Atoms. Bombs.
Uncertainty understands the unique motions of undercurrents.
Overwhelming me out of order.
Cradling comfort into chaos.
Allowing allocation of alluminum allusions.
Destroyed days of drought…
and…
Varying vestiges of vertigo.
Make my mind.
