To Have, To See
It was handed to me
from a swift passersby;
an ocular occlusion,
a kaleidoscope, a bug’s eye view in etheric blue -
within an image of ghastly beauty surfaces,
a resurrection song.
As the kaleidoscope spun the dervish shapes began to dance,
but you
in a television-ghost white hue, were immutable
mixed in the mists billowing all around me.
You stood in the centre of the whorling white fog.
Empty and saddened, lost eyes locked on mine.
I’ve missed you to the sharp point
of insanity
the dense emptiness at the edge of a razor blade.
