June 22

comments 6

The gingko, green fractal
reaching in the breeze–

there is geometry
in a quiet evening,

seen and unseen

the sky dimming
like a screen, still

blue, still blue,
and the arc of a jetliner,

the beams and girders
of the closest build site,

its lightbulbs, tungsten,
in metal cages, old

and comforting, just that
one room lit, not even a room

yet, a prototype, the lack
that comes before,

that emptiness that is
at the heart of everything,

call it potential,
or, a ghost



  1. Beautifully written. Loved the wordplay and the shapes and colors also stood out…there is an order and chaos everywhere…:)


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