Passages


Lovers, strangers, lamplight
on your passing faces, for you
the street parts the night hours, marking
each rift of window light or shuttered darkness
on the walk, catching here and there
an arm, a silence, fluttering coat
among the angled shadows,
trapped in embrace.

Who are you now holding me here,
hostage to the room's barred stillness,
tightrope dancer on the waking of your steps?

Blind, indifferent, these walls
face each other, do not see me
caught in the rapture of this moment
bursting against the slated evening
like street lamps flaring one by one into the sky,
distance made sudden, swift

But draws what night it can into its heart.

Traveler out of the depths,
you pass, and all the world is still
raised eyes and lowered voices,
as if you were unspoken.
.....

3 comments:

  1. One of my favourite poems!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love it, and read it over and over.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Nice.... especially love that line break in the last stanza....

    ReplyDelete

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