Saturday, February 4, 2012


“Your White Shadow” © Mike Absalom January 15th
2012

Last night under a huge sky
I stepped outside and peering
upwards
saw you float silently past,
in the white and silent shape
of an owl,
eyes glittering with moon
dust,
seeing me, and not seeing me.

You are a seeded sphere of
life tumbling on the moon’s breath,
a silent incantation as you
pass me by
casting your white shadow
against my black darkness.

I am entranced by the beauty
of your form.

Your dandelion clock counts
imaginary hours
but each one is registered in
a living breath
as if there is some sense in
that childish tally.
And always I am entranced by
the beauty of the form.

Last night under a huge sky I
stepped outside
and peering upwards saw you sail
silently past
in the white and threatening
shape of an owl,
eyes glittering with moon
dust,
seeing me, and seeing me too
well.

This morning you are gone
like fingerprints on a river.
It is hard to gather you as
evidence.
I have looked for moon dust
but all I find is empty
bottles.
You will say they are mine.

Last night under a huge sky
I stepped outside and peered
upwards
You floated silently past,
in the white and silent shape
of an owl,
eyes glittering with moon
dust,
seeing me, and not seeing me
at all.

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