3019. PASSAGE

PASSAGE

I am listening to night voices, and the dwindling
moon settles in on my left, over the water, beyond
the lake, past where the oar-crew practices.
Even this early, splitting the daybreak with a
megaphone, nothing seems to make sense. The
moon falls over the daylight cliff, and the world
rises, light with its new-day's energy and heat.
-
Solar-powered luminescence, like a fire from the heart.

-

I am seeing the girls with the backpacks dissemble.
They count their eyes and arms as I watch. I sense
their feelings completely : an odd mix of self-awareness,
curiosity, and a certain, happy form of human lust.
All things to love; all things, every. Warmer than Sun.

-

Fifteen or twenty geese traverse the dirt-path
corridor; their crazy academic catalogue seems rigid
even here, on the ground. They look askance, and
cackle that cackle - whatever it is geese do. No
understanding can surpass their instinct to graze.
-
Winged flower, empty nightmare creature, broad
stroke of all that is; dim dawn of another day,
dim dawn of another day.