Ghosted fashion, sunglasses
of a darker mist,
and a bridge to be traversed,
although arrivals on the further shore
are never the ones who left.
For her, no warm embraces,
no distant tears;
without a moment’s regretful hesitation
she begins her journey.
The river far below is flowing russet, jetsam waves,
and tiny stars above are
little suns that can’t grow up, afterimages of
a universe long lost, afloat in panoramic darkness.
She purchases refreshment at a lemonade stand,
and later at a crossroads meets
seven directions spinning on a compass
with marginal gravitation and bubble headed
astronauts who rise and fall.
Around a corner, a traveler’s inn—
a swinging sign, the hotel blue, and a lantern
marked with geodesics
that hangs above the door.
She’ll stop and rest, she thinks,
if the tariff is not unreasonable.
~/~
In a space-time twist, the hotel hides a universe,
a solar system planeted in a copacetic zone.
The traveler becomes less tenuous, more cellular,
carbon-based, a life form evolved
to go to school, with chromosomes to laugh and cry,
lovers, family, a fiancé,
and all their helical threads,
doubled and invisible,
form a web that binds her to a world in blue.
The undiluted truth, its cold
and lonely math, is lost.
But now and then, on nights
when distant thunder tears the canvas sky,
she recalls a bridge
and a hyphenated journey still in store.
about
dna; the Goldilocks zone; a dash of plagiarism, the Eagles (1976) Hotel California.
artwork
statistical fish
this is really fascinating, Steve. I would love to read more
Thanks Vanessa. Me too, hahaha. No, thing is, it is part of a story but reality has decided not to give me much time to write lately 🙁 .
Wow. This is one of the best pieces of wordsmithing I’ve had the pleasure of reading in a very long time. Your words are razor sharp. Your structure is damn near perfect. I am in awe.
Thank you so much. I really appreciate the feedback, especially because right now it’s hard for me to find time to write.
this is amazing. I tell you, you’ve got a piece of T.S. Eliot in your DNA. 🙂
Haha, thanks. It’s possible, junk DNA I think it’s called 😀 .
No, not junk, not junk at all. It’s good!! 🙂
A tiny sigh escaped my lips when I finished reading this…I, too, want more…
You’ve hit the nail spot on. I haven’t had a great week and almost didn’t write anything. But I’m glad it happened, even though it’s fantasy and you might say it’s irrelevant to cold hard life. Thing is it’s human to dream of the fantastic, and for me, being human is already a kind of magic–what our senses (including the mind sense, since I’m part-time Buddhist) touch and imagine in the world all around us.
Most good actions begin with a dream 🙂
Been in CA w/o my laptop. Finally got to read this. Glad you finally got the time to write it! The last stanza left me feeling wistful…
Lucky you. Thanks, just the way things are with time and people and the universe. *Thinks* maybe I can blame the universe for my laziness. Her journey was probably going to end badly anyway, and the earth isn’t too bad at times 😉 .
Wonderful, Steve! Reading your work is delightful!
Thank you Laura, glad you enjoy it 🙂 .