Fragments

no more silent mornings
holding back sounding walls
so who did say
the view is black
finding fragments
like unforgiving choice
alone on some spiral track

to the left or to the right
you can not tell
the way to move
to the front or to the rear
is all the same
the stuff of recurrent fear

this space
rough and smooth
strewn with tears
is not yours

yours is stillness
among hands
that raise but
do not hold


This is a recent piece and is an example of a thought stream around which the work evolves.