Making Faces

Long ago
is but a myth:
It's just Now making faces

The future
is someone walking backwards
while the trees bend in the wind
and the silences 'tween words wind up,

I've reached an old age
which is a room without walls;
windows scattered through the landscape,
ceilings hovering like magnifying glasses

This age is supported by the dead,
who are strong like body builders,
with nothing more to lose

Names sink like ships
on the horizon

”After the first death there is no other”,
says Dylan Thomas

He heard it
I hear it

and those years are magnified

Even those who vow
not to use Facebook anymore,
go somewhere,

perhaps into the double silences
between words that were never uttered

Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 67 times
Written on 2022-04-28 at 13:54

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