London Poem: Day 121

16 December

The big wide world around
Twirls and yawns, swallowing
Up the important parts.
I look into the scant,
Slanting spaces for something
That never was.
How soon will it be before
I push the unseen through
The world’s yawning mouth?
Too soon I fear as blindness
Swallows sense and I in turn
Fall down.
It is too difficult to step
Away and see what is so
Clearly apparent –
I rather wait for the impossible
To shape as a new life forms to
Erase the impossible and
Flip it all around.

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In flux

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