What’s really here in this sky
besides the opaque mask on possibility
where three birds call and fly
counterpoint to emptiness of eye?
What’s really here in this wood
besides the spines the brambles
the dark night rambles off a cliff
hiding under shadow's sly leaved hood?
What’s really here behind those
headlights turned on me
besides a need to kiss the lens
and ever always be
brighter better, going on
to something with more glitter?
Don’t write that one line letter
because I don’t want to know.
Brian is hosting at the pub today, and has snagged photographer Tracey Grumbach of Nine Acres Design to share her work with us.
Image by Tracey Grumbach
Used with permission