Jan 16, 2011 20:28
the curve of a placid surface
deep, slick and dark
motes drift on the plane
briefly touching, shining
dimming with parting
We drift
and we move
and we wander
and I wonder
at the meaning in the motion
After such a bright flash
vision blurred by shadow images
I drift too, not without purpose
but knowing that flare to be
unique, transient, lost
a starburst of color and power
burning brief and glorious
a light I wont see again
this is no void
and I still see distant shine
but now through an after-image
a retinal burn
a dim reminder of brilliance
I can only hope it never fades
random poem,
random poetry