When this moment
Is stripped down
Naked of pretense,
Bereft of sun and star,
Moonless –

When the world is
Without architectural majesty,
And technology has slipped
Back into its sleeve
In silence –

When the dolphins and whales
Have loaded up
The caravans
To roam the galaxies
Like the gypsies
They were always born to be –

When the blood in my skin
Has boiled away to dust
And I’ve taken to the wind –

Will any of this matter?
I mean, really…
The men, and the grief,
The bits of my heart
Consumed by the big, black hole
Of ineffability;
The life squandered
On ridiculous endeavors,
The children grown and gone?
I mean, really...

06/03/2009

Posted on 06/04/2009
Copyright © 2025 Alison McKenzie