By | 1 August 2016

Hour of bright & dim; such stillness you could
skate, crack to beneath –

Circling out, not yet dark
enough to watch
traces of universe, blinking down. Only

the glimmer & still. One last swerve & you
are returned,

the view softly
frozen over

at your back: lanterns & palms &
the sheer-seeming drop of grass & stair –

Water as though it might hold you
on your feet, figurine-like & turning.

This entry was posted in 75: FUTURE MACHINES and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related work: