Excerpt from Zeta Landscape by Carol Watts


now it is evening cobalt is always the colour drawing
thin in a cold season it shades to black where
there are no interruptions no shadows no moon
but the sounds of settling no planes no interference
where feet fall they meet other algorithms like
a walking in the dark where space kicks back do you lose
gravity find new ligaments as the ground falls away
requiring lengthening is it louder out there
or does something hum by the fence seven leagues out
on a smaller scale straddling terraces of frost and erosion
you stumble now evening is advancing the day has long
burnt off the tar of this night is heavy how high
it has to rise before obsidian is its glass equal to
the depth of a footfall testing the reach of limbs
no shadows no moon but the sounds of settling
light is a line for census taking an articulation of eyes
picking out a secret circuitry the blur of after images
as if traffic passes even here hold your hand across
the mouth of a torch one two three four five sounds

[click here to read the poem in its entirety]

written by Carol Watts
published in HOW2

Mark valentine stand of pines

photo by Mark Valentine via flickr

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