Tuesday, 23 May 2017

changing light

while confronting
an irreducible 
grain of time
a craving grips me 
from within,
sinking at the horizon
like a seed sown,
the creepers
of tomorrow
are 
waiting 
to 
grow

in a tranquil night
motionless
dark
the creepers
swallowing the grey clouds
climbing
slowly
will inhale the whole sky.
the repetitions of the waves
as the wind breaths
it seems as if
time
is
gasping

and I can feel
the changing light
growing
beneath the horizon
dark
I can smell this slowness
with every strand of hair
dancing on my forehead
just like a slow
rhythmic dance
amid the 
heavy
inert
silence