Monday, June 05, 2006


(after Deborah Christian)

He stirs in the stillness of his focus,
Not wanting to define the object of his attention

This strange connection, a wispy liaison
Between two pasts, main line and parallel

Sometimes it is like a leaf tensioned on water
One reflects and the other avoids rippling

From a distance there are not two
But one and its mirror image

Reflections themselves never lie
Unlike hearsay and emotions
Contemplating potentiality

Rumor isn't always disinformation
It is perception tied at the ankle to hope

In the plane between object and reflection
Is a sliver of truth infrequently acknowledged

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