Poetry
Observing Sight
The devil in the details
It’s a becoming
of the observation
that fuels my heart awake —
one day I was caught in a cascading concentration
of an ongoing flight
dedicated to deviations of sight —
I noticed growing maladies
plaguing my morning eyes
while watching the daily demise
of every black velvet tendril
that blankets the night
and observed the smooth sensations of silence
by watching the grooves that placate star points
then read the glorious graffitied history
of every star that used to shine in dueling Milky Ways gone mad —
but then I saw you can still capture the light
even with melancholy eyes that turn the volume down
when time fades all around
My observations
were caught in rickety reels
a desperate dangling
until they could feel
the aged warmth
of hidden sun pockets
and melted into dew drops
then balanced in soft gold
until I could become a breeze
catching the orange rays
of yesterday…
