Colin Mitchell Williams Poet Free verse

In the Webs Reiteration

Am I slipping
Feel myself sliding on vacant
Some quiet un-moment
Seems receding languidly dripping
Loose and losing any importance
Of my story-line nothing could punctuate

Vague entwines a thoughtless hour
A broken eyewitness circulates
Am I vanishing
Gliding the intermittent spiral
A whirlpools inconsistent fragmenting
Draws me internal

I feel myself becoming silent
Time recollection meanders
A slow drip into conscious forgetting
Another part remembering

Am I disappearing
I do not think
Seeing is thinking me
Becoming what I see
This internal external description
Enfolding me

I am fading
Lost to an immensity
Inside me
Is not me
Outside of me
Is more than I could touch
Becoming free

I am floating
A leaf cut adrift
Flotsam on the tide of emptying
And provenience grows
On toward a horizons hypnotizing
Quiet contains its source
As it flows
I glide
Where are my thoughts
Am I slipping
The rain of life is falling
Into my mind

All to a space
No time 
No place
Am I increasing
With this wind in motions precision
The rain of life is filling
Falling remembers an echo
Ripples internal their intersection
Traveling through my mind

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Gayle Rodd September 9, 2020 at 5:44 PM I felt an almost ominous, floating feeling; dropping down as I read this poem. Fascinating! Colin Mitchell Williams September 18, 2020 at 4:29 AM Kinda how I feel, is it ominous to feel yourself merging or emerging with or from everything around you ? To feel yourself from a distance which seems so close and so poignant ? Thank you for your comment Gayle.