Wednesday, April 26, 2006

A sharpened lens

Through the sharpened
lens of winter
a hard white moon
beats clean
down through
narrow canyons

ricochets
high between
crystalline
hardened steel
and glass walls
gaining velocity

then strikes
the deep
thrumming gong
of undiminished
original
bed rock

sounding
deep earth bound
sounding chambers
far below the range
of any hearing
but feeling.

5 comments:

Day Dreamer said...

You write beautifully with a keen eye. I enjoy your writing immensely.

coyote said...

Thank you, 'Dreamer. I have the feeling from your blog that we share geography in common...

Day Dreamer said...

We're a few time zones apart (if you are in Ottawa.)

coyote said...

I suppose this plane of virtual reality is a bit convoluted. In my dreams, Day Dreamer, I still run through the foothills...

Day Dreamer said...

Our planes are separated only by latitudes, longitudes, seconds and minutes, mountains and foothills.