Thursday, November 10, 2011


bayham abbey, sussex, united kingdom. june, 2011.

ever read lines of light
through an opening, watch them
arc like cilia tending
to the surge that bends them
and moves sustenance along?
ever try to see the real thing below
the surface before it shifts and nothing
but the trivial is left?
difficult that, but not impossible.
i am being nourished, my eyes narrowed
to living slits, hardly needle sharp, yet
pricking their way down tunnels
sucking in what ansel
and edward, those f/64's
were worked up about.
they were on to something—click, click
the rich deepening of fields.
my field isn't deep. there are gaps.
i'm squinting fast
blinder than i ever was
blind then
blind now
needing more, trying
to hold on to something, anything, as i lean in
closer to the edge and crash
through this pinhole, rabbit hole, squeezed tight
at the end, prying out the miracle
stuck in my inner eye of a see! see! see!
revelation on the other side.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...


Another wonderful, insightful poem.