Watermark by Richard VinceNew paint cannot disguise
The old imprint that
I have always known,
Hewn into the enamel
By invisible forces.
Even though it may
Appear banished, that
Same familiar pattern
Soon rematerialises.
It adds a completeness
To the orange glow
Pervading the steam
On the glass beyond
Which those old sounds,
The rattle and hum that
Have comforted me
When sleeping in a
Strange bed, originate.
Had I been here when
The mark was newly
Disguised, the gap in
The Universe would have
Been tangible.
But as it is, I watch
It grow, betraying
The identity of the
Same old water running
Down those mysterious
Hills whose name I know
But whose form evades me.
05/24/2005 Posted on 06/05/2005 Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince
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