The Glass Spire

[UmbraSight]

- Self-ish
Please, oh please
Wrong be it I
— or is it I that is wrong —
to assume or
to — want is it?
no — it must be something
bent
to feel alone in
good company
or to laugh
so freely while
while,
— not alone, I
then why is it all
as sand caught in wind
impossible to hold
impossible to —
I’ve never really known how to connect, have I?

 

[UmbraSight]

-Self-less
O’ at the lake’s
bleeding edge
where dragonflies
flit between the — reeds
there’s a rhythm to
it — the little fish
and birds which gather
speak say you
o’ no
the lake spills
to the river
e’re it flows
and you
speak
to fill that silence of
birdsong and water
to hold
the ending away
by weight of word
but we know their
measure
and I never was
—