Believe me that I loved the span of time we occupied,
the arc of our lives feathering out to the ends of a century.
I remember metallic voices emanating from dash boards
and being afraid of what both car and computer were capable.
I remember your face, magnificent in the rainbow reflection of a compact disc,
the black margins in the screen an ongoing cultural commentary
I believed in the shade of trees, even then,
and that the ever-expanding ripples on a pond were a prophecy.

06/25/2002

Posted on 06/25/2002
Copyright © 2024 Lacy D Phillips