May 06, 2007

Keeping my hand in

Residual traces of the
lightning strikes
linger on the surface
of the optic nerves. Some
might see paintings
in them, or sculptures
carved from the Carrera marble
that Michelangelo loved
so much. Others
will attach visions, talk
of pathways to the world
beyond, flood-lit avenues
or lights at the end of
tunnels. The poet, prosaic,
counts the time until
the thunder arrives.

—Mark Young

Posted by dwaber at May 6, 2007 10:55 AM