#drysalter

[jeoblivion]

Through a Glass Darkly

by Michael Symmons Roberts

Mist can be a form of mercy, all precision gone, all detail lost.

Cataracted hawks hunt woods for motion-blur, then stoop

into the slipstream of their prey. I pray for days like these,

when cars are lit cortèges. As for oceans, fog is respite

from the ache of holding surface as a clear line named horizon.

Forensic summer gone, now we live in close-up: flaked face of brick

frostbitten, verdigris and icicles on statues. A world drawn tight.

Look up: stars are gone. It’s just us.

From Drysalter (Cape)

[jeoblivion]

You have forgotten all you ever knew: books, doctrines symphonies; whole cultures are unwritten. That hot breeze tastes of nothing. Turn round. Drop to all fours. Now run.

from The Road Retaken / Drysalter by Michael Symmons Robert

[ndru-wins]

Through a Glass, Darkly.

Mist can be a form of mercy, all precision gone, all detail lost.

Cataracted hawks hunt woods for motion blur, then stoop

into the slipstream of their prey. I pray for days like these

when cars are lit cortéges. As for oceans, fog is respite

from the ache of holding surface as a clear line named horizon.

Forensic summer gone, now we live in close-up: flaked face of brick

frostbitten, verdigris and icicles on statues. A world drawn tight.

Look up: stars are gone. It's just us.

-Michael Symmons Roberts