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They pass by, gently, In one almost unnoticed moment slip Beyond our mortal reach, To seem so senseless ... If such is destiny then where's the place Within this short life for Compassion or for grief? Memories still haunt ... if they could only speak! Be here but briefly You conjured souls of long forgotten pasts/ Remembered yet-to-be's. Sleep with me sweetly – Upon my oath, had I but time to dream I'd know just where to find The visions that I seek, Caught within the trap, of echo's prophecy, So deep, so distant, Where I shall hide myself from emptiness, Some ocean far from home; Some silent quadrant, Uncharted wasteland, undecided fate, Its challenge: try my chance Against the great Unknown. After all this time, I find myself alone, "For we are all ghosts, Each to the other shows his image as A blank, unheeding stare." So spoke the shriver, Yet I heard nothing, looked beyond the pale of worldly ends, quite through The man, as if not there. Strewn with ashes of my past, the wind's path wafts me where Friends and strangers Are tumbling leaves that pass by, criss-crossed lives That touch and float away. |
| (1978) |
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| photos: Stephen Alsford |
| Created: November 17, 2014. | © Stephen Alsford |