[MD] Painting on Twisted Silk

[John Carl]

swallow.

 every petal

dissolves

into the fog

 conceived

 from lungs to lips,

escaping in a sigh of relief.

midnight feels like

 forever

from here

(in this moment) ;

 a lifetime, death, and eternity

twisted together

in a split silk rope

we are

 momentary in nature,

but monumental in a moment,

creating ripples in the

 earthen vibrations

          that flutter through

empty     space,

organizing a rhythmic clutter into human art.

our legacy is left in grassy wire mesh

glinting beneath some sunlight

 just off   somewhere we'll never     see

 as it melts

and runs

in a homogeneous stream through

 veins and nerves

we breath softly,

steaming up the windowglass

 and shading the other side

of death.

----------------


Poem written on a silk scarf
<http://www.flickr.com/photos/ridgecoyote/4086165087/>and attached to the
Temple of Memory and then all burned up, but not before I had a chance to
digicam it.


and  see how this flickr thing goes...