When you are twenty one you have
always known; when you are in love
you are not twenty one – between the
lines you wait for the moment.
This is the here-and-now, do you paint
where the scenery is not infinite, do
you wait for a screen prompt to see
where you are looking?
I hear the sounds – the echo of an
ant in a non-existent forest where
the trees fall silently; I, too, am
bound to the same rhetoric.
© I,D. Carswell 2007-01-20
No comments:
Post a Comment