Moving Through Continuance
Perpetual beginnings
avoid uncertain endings.
The day ends
forgetting where it started.
One hour wipes a moving face
you had hung on the wall
thinking to mark a passing,
but there is no passing
only the begun again.
A tiny speck floating between us.
Your eyes flicker over it
tracing its erratic passage.
My features are wiped away
as your mind follows your eyes.
Only another distraction
can bring us back together
into the same space.
Abandoned footprints pressed
into the earth between night and day
Muddy shoes, empty, discarded,
their throats wide open,
mouths mutely appealing,
caught in the act
of escaping both dark and light.
Here, where elderly men sip tea with
the loud ticking of a communal clock,
unshod feet shuffle in white cotton.
Their thoughts begin and end
in the gaps between their words.
Perpetual twilight stirs the milk
in dimming eyes.
Exasperated attendants hunt
for lost shoes,
while the old men
play an invisible game of chess
with specks of awareness
caught as they are
between somnambulant journeys.
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