Reflections In a Train Window Pane
Roy Lazarus
6 August 2009, 00:27All around various shades of dark:
Slender silhouettes blunted at their tips
As they stab the infinite canopy of the night.
In the eastern sky, a milky orb
Throbs in vain against the inky tide,
That threatens to engulf one and all.
Somewhere in yonder field, an abandoned mansion
Sheds gray tears of dust and mortar,
Baring empty windows in a grotesque, toothless gasp.
The embrace of weeds is a withered consolation –
Terrible forms that twist and contort all around
Right up to the broken precipice.
Inside, the shadow of a stray figure hunches over,
Faded by time, till all that remains
Is a faint depression on a foam cushion,
The impression of a jagged elbow on dusty bureau
And broken thoughts gleaming through hanging cobwebs.
The air is heavy and also supremely light
For the heavy corpse of solitude is weightless
In the dead air of this empty landscape.
In the room, in the air, the dull, thudding vibration
Of a name that was once uttered –
In benediction, in grief, in love, in hope?
No one knows, not even the pale shadow
That bespoke it once in strange emotion.
In this oneiric landscape, nothing survives,
No, not even the leftovers of silent suffering.
All that remains is an incomprehensible vibration,
That hangs motionless in the air
And poisons it like fungus.
Very nice
— Vinod Joseph · Aug 7, 06:37 · #