Tuesday, September 20, 2011

HOBART

(to those who made an early departure)

Wandering the streets
in a city south of anywhere
and feeling my toes hanging
over the edge, and feeling
the free fall possibility of escape;
fate and the mad spin of gravity.

There are names down there
long writ on the river surface.
I remember them, do you remember them too?
Memory comes shimmering from the deep,
dark light ribbons, liquid calligraphy.

In every hometown song I try to make
beauty runs with earth bound mortality.

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